


Pretend a Little

by tolieawake



Series: Pretend a Little [1]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: BAMF Nick, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, More Fluff, Nick makes Renard's annoying family look like idiots, Politics, Royal Families, Wu totally runs all the betting pots, bamf renard, everyone knows Nick and Sean are dating but them, how to make a Grimm less scary, kinda set around the beginning of season 3, wesen community, wesen politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 102,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolieawake/pseuds/tolieawake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I know this is a lot to take in,” Renard said, spreading his hands and leaning forward over the desk. “But unfortunately, recent circumstances are forcing our hand.”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“Which means we have to date.”</i></p>
<p>  <i>“To give the appearance of dating, yes.”</i></p>
<p>  <i>Nick laughed. “This is insane.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Having recently gotten into Grimm (I am almost at the end of S3 as I write), I was exploring the Renhardt and Sean/Nick tags on Tumblr, and stumbled upon an old post by @smc-superwhoavengepotterlock asking for a fake dating fic. As this is one of my all-time favourite tropes, the muse latched hold.

“You're kidding,” Nick said.

Looking him straight in the eyes, the Captain shook his head.

Letting out a breath, Nick his hand over his face. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. So, not kidding.” He frowned.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” Renard said, spreading his hands and leaning forward over the desk. “But unfortunately, recent circumstances are forcing our hand.”

“Which means we have to date.”

“To give the appearance of dating, yes.”

Nick laughed. “This is insane.” 

“Nick.” Stepping around his desk, Renard approached his detective. “I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it important. Members of my family will most likely arrive in Portland today -”

“Today!” Nick exclaimed. “And you didn't think to warn me earlier?”

“I had hoped that it would not be necessary.”

“And now it is?”

“Yes -” The Captain paused as a knock came on his door. Turning to face it, a frown crossed over his face. “Yeah?” he called.

The door opened and Wu poked his head inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I've got a, ah,” he glanced down at his notepad, “Prince Viktor Albert Wilhelm George Beckendorf; and His Royal Highness, King Frederick Renard, here to see you.” Wu paused, glancing up at the Captain. “I don't think either of them are in any mood to wait at the moment.”

“Send them in,” Renard replied.

Shooting the Captain another curious look, Wu ducked back out of the room. 

“Today?” Nick hissed, taking a step forward so that he was fully in Renard's space, glaring up at him. “I think this is a little more than 'arriving in Portland today'!”

“As much as I would like to be in control of everything,” Renard hissed back, “I'm not. I only received confirmation of their arrival this morning. Would you have preferred I woke you at 3am in order to -”

“Maybe you should have -”

“If I -”

The sound of the door opening behind them had Nick leaning forward. He was already standing toe-to-toe with the Captain, eyes locked as they argued, so it didn't take much for him to lean in, hands fisting in Renard's suit lapels and dragging the taller man down into a kiss.

It was harsh and hard and abrupt. But at least it gave the appearance that they were standing close together because they liked each other, and not because they had been in the middle of what had been working towards being a rather heated argument. Automatically, the Captain's hands came to rest on Nick's hips, drawing him closer.

Someone cleared their throat behind them.

Slowly stepping back, Nick felt his lips cling to Renard's for a moment, before releasing. His eyes were blown wide, and he unconsciously flicked out his tongue to catch the lingering taste on his lips. Swallowing, the Captain stepped further back, putting space between them and forcing their hands to drop from each other.

Smoothing down his jacket, the Captain turned his attention to the newcomers. “Father, Viktor,” he said.

Tugging his own shirt straight, Nick turned around to face the reason for the impromptu kiss. He just hoped that Renard's explanation – when he got it – was reason enough for this whole fake dating thing.

“Sean,” the King said. His eyes swept over his son, before moving on to take in the Grimm. Nick Burkhardt wasn't particularly large or muscled. While appearing fit, there was nothing to make him stand out. But that didn't mean the Grimm wasn't dangerous. Just because the King couldn't see it in him – well, perhaps that made him all the more dangerous. And King Frederick had heard some of the stories, including one about the heads of two Reapers sent home in a box. 

The Captain motioned to Nick. “This is Detective Nick Burkhardt,” he said. “Nick, this is -”

“Oh, I think we all know he's a bit more than that,” the King cut him off. 

Squaring his jaw, Nick stared the King down. He didn't care if the man was technically royalty, or that he hardly knew anything about him. What he did know was enough to firm his resolve. This was the man who had fathered Eric – who had tried to kidnap Nick and steal him away from Portland. He was also the man who had never tried to be a father to the Captain.

Shifting slightly, as though simply getting more comfortable, Nick took a step closer to his Captain, while baring his teeth in a threatening smile. 

“And yet,” he said, “that hardly seems relevant.” Turning, he glanced at the Captain, a question in his eyes. Renard tilted his head in a barely there nod. “Well,” said Nick, glancing back over at their royal guests. “If you'll excuse me, I have a number of leads to follow up on.”

“Oh, you mustn't go yet,” King Frederick replied, “we've barely met.”

“Duty calls,” Nick replied.

“Then you must join us for dinner,” Viktor cut in, his eyes darting between Nick and Renard. “After all, it's been such a long time since we've seen Sean. It would be simply delightful to sit down to dinner together, catch up, and get to know you.”

“Well,” Nick said, “we'll see how work pans out.” Then, with a nod to Renard, he stepped out of the Captain's office, closing the door behind him.

Glancing up, he saw Hank and Wu staring fixedly at him.

“What?” he asked, pushing away from the door and moving to join them at the desks.

Smirking, Wu let his eyes rake over the detective. “Thank you, good sir,” he said, “for ensuring that I win the pot. As usual.” He grinned.

Nick frowned. “What pot?”

Wu let his eyes dart towards the Captain's office. “Let's just say that that was an interesting moment I observed earlier.”

Nick's jaw dropped as he gaped at them. “What?” he asked. “You can't!”

“You couldn't have waited two more days?” Hank asked.

“Of course not,” Wu replied, “the man knows when it's best to make a move. Or revelation. Step out of the wooden prison cell.”

Nick was shaking his head. “You can't be serious,” he said. 

“Well,” Wu said, “admittedly, it's not like you were ever really in the closet, in the closet. But this whole relationship,” he waved one hand around to somehow indicate between Nick and the Captain, “that was kept kinda close.” He smirked. “But not quite close enough, for those of us who know how to detect.”

“You can't have won a pot!” Nick said. “What pot? How come I didn't -”

“You know the rules,” Wu replied with a roll of his eyes. “You can't bet in a pot when it's about you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some spending of my winnings to plan.”

Watching him leave, Nick had the insane urge to thump his head down on his desk. 

“Relax,” Hank said, “Wu's not going to say anything, just record the date for when it's safe to say something and collect his winnings.” He paused, frowning at Nick. “You okay?” he asked. “You look kind of stunned. You know Wu's always one to get in on the betting around here.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Nick replied, shaking his head.

*

They ended up at a furniture warehouse less than an hour later, staring down at the dead body of the Packing Manager. Blood spread out from a head wound – most likely the cause of death. Around them, the anxious workers shifted, muttering together and collectively exhibiting signs of shock.

Glancing up, Nick sighed, sharing a glance with Hank before they moved over to begin questioning the workers.

Reaching a smaller, twitchy man, Nick frowned. Mr Brown, as he stammeringly introduced himself, was making that part of Nick that he tended to simply label his 'Grimm senses' tingle. From one moment to the next, the man woged. A mauzhertz. Immediately, the man stumbled backwards, hands coming up before him.

Closing his eyes, partly in frustration at the characteristic reaction of a wesen to finding out he was a Grimm, and partly simply because he was getting kind of tired of said reaction, Nick held his own hands out to the side.

“No, no, no, no,” the mauzhertz moaned, stumbling back into a stack of wooden coffee tables. 

“Relax,” Nick said, trying to project as much calm as he could. “I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a cop. I just need to ask you a few questions. Nothing more.”

Tripping, the mauzhertz tumbled to the ground, entire body shaking. A quick glance showed that they were beginning to gain an audience of the other workers and the uniforms. Wu was frowning in their direction.

“Look,” Nick said, squatting down before Brown and keeping his hands spread out to either side, open to show that he wasn't holding any weapons. “I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to help.” Slowly, he reached out, grasping hold of Brown's arm to help pull him to his feet. As he did so, Brown froze, first in terror and then in something else, nose twitching and face rippling in shock, before he suddenly went limp and relaxed.

Nick blinked, not entirely sure what had happened, before pulling them both up to their feet.

“Are you all right?” he asked, steadying Brown as he swayed.

“Yeah – yes. Yes,” the mauzhertz replied, giving himself a shake. He stared at Nick in a kind of awe. “My apologies. It's just, well, a little much to take in, if you understand me.”

Nick gave a slight smile. “Right,” he said.

*

Their investigation led them through a part of town that Nick generally tried to ignore. Not because he didn't like the area, or the people there, but rather because it tended to be a wesen-heavy area and he had no desire to start a mass panic.

Stopping at a cafe they had been informed their suspect frequented, they were confronted with a lowen barista, who immediately woged and snarled at Nick, leaning across the counter to glare at him.

“You!” the lowen began, before drawing in a deep breath and freezing. His eyes widened and he took a step back. “My apologies,” he said, dipping his head slightly. “I was not aware of your new status.”

*

There was a background hum as they walked down the street from the cafe, which Nick tried hard to ignore. Around them, various wesen shot curious and furtive glances their way, woging between their human and wesen forms as they did so.

“Okay,” Hank said, turning to Nick. “What's going on?”

“What?”

“You have that look. You pretty much haven't lost it all day. What's up?”

Sighing, Nick shook his head. “I don't know,” he said, “they've never reacted to me like this before.”

*

Their suspect, who turned out to be human, was captured by three in the afternoon, along with enough evidence that they could easily book him and hand him over to the DA.

“Glad that's over,” Hank said, shaking his head. 

“Just paperwork left,” Nick replied with a smile. 

“Tell you what,” Hank said, “you head off. I'll take care of it.”

“Not that I'm not grateful, but what's brought this on?”

Hank gave him a look as though he was being stupid. “Go,” he said, “before I change my mind.” At the same time, Wu walked past, humming the wedding march under his breath.

Rolling his eyes, Nick held his hands up in surrender. “Whatever,” he said. Turning, he headed towards the Captain's office.

“Have a good night!” Hank called after him. Spinning, Nick shot his partner a glare before turning back and knocking on the Captain's door.

“Yeah,” Renard called. Opening the door, Nick poked his head inside.

“You got a minute?” he asked.

“Of course.” Motioning Nick in, Renard pushed his paperwork away from him. “What can I do for you?”

“Now that's a loaded question if ever I heard one.” Both Nick and Renard's heads shot around to stare at Wu. Holding his hands up, the Sergeant motioned towards the papers held in one hand. “Sorry,” he said, “but you wanted this ASAP,” he told Renard, handing it over. “And now, I'm going,” he added, backing away from their glares.

With a groan, Nick shut the door behind him. “Great,” he said.

“Actually,” Renard replied, “it is. The fact that Hank and Wu believe us makes it far more likely that others will as well. But I doubt you came in here to talk about them.”

“No.” Pushing himself away from the wall, Nick approached the Captain's desk, dropping down into the chair in front of it. “I thought I better check in with you about our plans for this evening?”

“Viktor and my father expect us to join them for dinner at El Gaucho. However, it is likely that they will take the opportunity to investigate my living situation under the guise of giving us a lift to the restaurant.”

“So I should make sure to be at yours.”

“It would be helpful.”

“What time?”

Renard glanced over at his computer. “Better make it six,” he said, “they shouldn't be there that early, but, just in case.”

“Of course.” Pushing himself to his feet, Nick gave a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“What?”

“It's just – not exactly how I was planning to spend my evening.”

“Oh?”

He shrugged. “Hey, my original plans involved a lot more feeling sorry for myself and moping around the place.”

Renard frowned. “How are you doing?” he asked.

Nick shrugged. “I'm okay,” he said. “I mean, sometimes I do get a bit mopey, but, it was for the best. Besides, Juliette and I still talk. I think we're actually closer now that we're just friends.”

“I'm glad.”

Nick glanced at the door. “I'd better go before Wu comes up with any other jokes,” he said.

“Go on,” Renard agreed, watching his best detective leave with a smile.

*

Standing in front of his wardrobe, doors flung wide, Nick stared. Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “Get a grip,” he muttered to himself. “It's just a fake date. With his family – who don't know it's fake.”

Groaning, he pulled out his phone, calling Monroe on automatic.

“Nick,” Monroe said, “you will not believe the rumours that I have heard floating around today. I mean, I kinda woged in shock when I first heard them, if you know what I mean, and scared a poor reinigen half to death.”

“Monroe,” Nick interrupted him, “I need some advice.”

“Uh yeah, okay. I mean, you usually call 'cos there's something you want to ask. What is it this time? Do I need to start heading for the trailer?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. This is... more personal.”

“Okay...” there was a suspicious hesitation in Monroe's voice that had Nick's instincts standing up. Ignoring it, he pressed on.

“The Captain's family are in Portland,” he said.

“His royal family?”

“Yeah. And they want to go to dinner with us.”

“Us, as in?”

“Me and the Captain. At El Gaucho. What do I wear?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. 

“Monroe?”

“Right, okay. So, should have seen that one coming,” Monroe muttered. 

“I mean, I don't want them to think I'm dressing up for them – if I had my way, we'd be giving them a rather permanent incentive to leave Portland. But it's El Gaucho, so I also can't not make any effort at all. And it's sort of meant to be a kind of date, I guess, so... I should probably wear a suit, shouldn't I?” he continued, without really waiting for Monroe to reply. “A suit is definitely needed for El Gaucho. Something formal – but not too over the top. I have the suit I use for any official work functions.”

“That could work,” Monroe managed to get in. 

“But then do I go tie? Bowtie?”

“You have bowties?”

“No. I don't think so. Maybe one. Somewhere. Juliette made me wear it once, when we went to one of her cousin's weddings. I felt like it was choking me the entire time.”

“Probably not the best idea to wear that, then,” Monroe said. “Although really, with their history, in many ways a bowtie is considered to be more formal than a tie, and with links to old world fashion and elegance -”

“Definitely not the bowtie, then,” Nick decided. He frowned. “Do I need a pocket handkerchief?” 

“Do you actually have any?”

“Ah, no. I'm sure I could buy one, though. But that would be putting too much effort in, wouldn't it? Definitely. Or should I put in a little effort? No, I don't want them to think -”

“Look, Nick, just, pick a tie that you like, is clean, and without any weird brightly coloured patterns, and you should be fine.”

“Do different coloured ties have different meanings?” Nick asked, staring at his assortment of the ties were they hung. “Not that I have that many colours, but -”

Monroe laughed.

“What?”

“Remember when you went to that fair with Rosalee and I,” the Blutbad explained, “and you bought that grey-green tie that we laughed at you about?”

“Ye-ah,” Nick said. It was something he remembered quite well, actually, but he supposed that was what happened when two of your friends laughed over you purchasing a tie and refused to tell you the reason for their laughter. He frowned. “You still haven't explained your amusement over that.”

“I'm sure you'll soon understand,” Monroe replied. “When do you have to be there?”

“Six.”

“Huh. Well, it's currently four-thirty. Why don't you let me give you a quick lesson in royal etiquette and politics before you have to leave?”

“Yeah, sure. That'd be great.”

They spent the next little while covering various things such as forms of address, what Nick could expect from the royals, and what they shouldn't do if trying to be polite.

“Hey,” Monroe said, suddenly cutting himself off mid-sentence. “Uh, just so you know, it's five-thirty.”

Cursing, Nick hung up the phone, hearing Monroe laughing as he did so.

*

Pulling up in front of the Captain's apartment building, Nick breathed in deeply, trying to settle his nerves. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, shifting until he could see himself in it. 

“Just think of it as an undercover op,” he told himself. “It's no big deal. You can do this.” His palms were slightly sweaty, and he'd spent the entire time driving there wondering if he'd made the right clothing choice. Which was ridiculous. He certainly didn't care about making a good impression on the Captain's family.

Getting out of the car, Nick headed inside.

He'd been to the Captain's place a few times before. Not often, but enough that he knew where he was going. The building guard glanced up as he entered, giving Nick a smile.

“Detective Burkhardt,” he said, “go right ahead.”

Blinking, Nick nodded back to the guard, heading towards the elevators. Every time he had been there previously, he had had to announce himself and wait for the guard to call up to Renard first. 

*

Renard opened the door to see Nick, dressed formally, and shifting from foot to foot. He smiled in relief. “Nick,” he said, “come in.” Stepping back, he motioned Nick forward and into the apartment.

“Hey,” Nick replied. “I hope this is okay?” he gestured at himself.

“Perfect,” Renard replied. “Would you like a drink?”

Nick laughed. “I'd love one,” he said, “but it's probably best if I don't start drinking just yet.” Renard let a small smirk cross his face as he caught the detective's eye.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

Leaning against the island counter, Nick watched his boss move easily around the kitchen. A rather fancy coffee machine soon produced a thick, dark liquid that had him groaning in appreciation just from the smell of it.

“One of the few true pleasures in life,” Renard said, handing him a mug.

Closing his eyes as he took a sip, Nick felt himself begin to relax. “If you had this at the precinct,” he said, “I don't think anyone would ever head home.” They shared a grin.

“Thank you,” said Renard. “For all of this.”

Nick shrugged. “You said it was important.”

“Yes,” the older man replied with a small smile. “It is. And it means a lot to me that you would agree without fully understanding it all. Your trust is important to me.”

Nick glanced down at his coffee, feeling his cheeks warm in a way he hoped the Captain wouldn't notice. “You're trusting me, too,” he said. Giving himself a small shake, he glanced up at Renard. “It looks like your 'family' aren't here yet. Is there anything else I need to know about this?”

“Yeah.” Motioning Nick forward into the living room, Renard followed him, taking a seat beside Nick on the couch. “The recent, upheaval, in regards to the royal families has caused quite a stir,” he said. “Eric's death has not been taken lightly. My presence in Portland has long gone ignored or scorned, but that is changing. The presence of an active Grimm in the city lends it a certain – prestige – which was previously lacking.” He glanced up from where he had been staring into his coffee. “Added to this, is my father and Viktor's presence in Portland.”

Nick frowned. “They want me,” he said.

Renard nodded. “Yes. The power that comes from being able to claim a Grimm would sway many of those who are unsure as yet as to whether they want to support the Royals or the Laufer.”

“Surely they don't think that I would help them?”

“I don't think they much care what you want. Only what they can force you to do.” Sighing, Renard leant back on the couch, though there was a rigidity in his posture, and formality in his speech, that suggested he was slipping into the more courtly manners of his youth. “However, as of yet, there has been no indication that they intend to take you by force. Instead, they are ostensibly visiting in order to see how I am doing. It also gives them an opportunity to meet you and try and convince you to work for them.”

Nick shook his head. “That's not going to happen,” he said.

“Of course not.”

“And so we're dating?”

“There are certain rules that, though they frequently and without remorse break them, the Royals are bound to uphold a semblance of adhering to. One of which is not stealing a Grimm against their consent – not when they've allied themself with another Royal.”

“So if I wasn't allied to anyone, I'd be fair game.”

Renard nodded.

“And the fact that we work together, and you're basically my boss doesn't count as allied?”

“It does,” Renard agreed. “But not nearly so much as an alliance of a more personal nature. It could be claimed, should they wish, that I am merely your boss in the human world. And in the matters of a Grimm, you are still free.”

“We can't just tell them I've allied myself with you?”

“The royal families are old-world. Marriage is often seen as the only truly unbreakable alliance.”

Nick choked on his drink. “We need to get married?” he asked.

The Captain shook his head. “No. They are aware enough of current times that a presumed romantic attachment between us should be enough to dissuade any overt actions on their end. At the very least, they will need to leave Portland with you here, and come up with any further plans after that. The knowledge of our relationship would also spread to the other royal families, giving us a measure of protection from their interference as well. But there is another reason for this.”

“Good,” Nick replied, “'cos right now all I'm really wanting to do is show your family just why it isn't wise to mess with a Grimm.”

A slight smirk crossed Renard's face. “While I can't say I would be disappointed should you do so, I believe that trying it my way first will go a long way to creating a sense of stability and safety in the area that will gain us strong support from the wesen community in Portland.

“It has long been known that you are not like other Grimms. The 'catch and release' Grimm I believe they have started to call you.” Nick shrugged. Renard smiled at him. “But years of fear aren't that easily erased. Those you have met are eager to sing your praises, but those you haven't are still wary.”

“And dating will fix that?”

“Yes.” The Captain smirked. “It will. Recent events have forced my protection of the city to become more visible. The wesen community is aware of who I am. And they also understand the alliance of marriage. If we are seen to be... together, then it will become known that we are allies. No-one will doubt whether you are merely keeping up an appearance of following my orders, or biding your time.

“Your involvement with me will make you a known, and safe, variable. The role of the Royals was always to govern the people – human and wesen alike. To enforce law and order, and to protect them.” Renard leant forward as he spoke, and Nick could see the passion in his eyes. “The Laufer exists because the Royals haven't been doing their jobs. The wesen, and people, are scared, unprotected, and rebelling. 

“Now that my status – bastard that I am – is known, I have been informed that the wesen of Portland are beginning to see me as their Royal. Which means protection. If they see you allied with me, then they will see you as an extension of the protection they expect from me.”

“And instead of begging me not to kill them, they'll expect me to help them out?”

Renard shrugged. “In some ways. They also expect me to lay down the law – so your work as a Grimm would continue. But, though you already do so, they would see you as more of an officer of the law than the monster who comes to kill them all.”

Nick grimaced. “Yeah,” he said. “I figure my ancestors have a lot to answer for.” Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. “Let me get this straight. You're saying that, in order to keep up a veneer of civility with your family, and to reassure the wesen that I am not the kind of Grimm who simply kills indiscriminately, we're pretending to date.”

Renard nodded. “Wesen who feel safe and secure will also lend their support behind us. With their support, it would be very hard for my family to attempt any plots against you in Portland.”

Shaking his head, Nick stared at his Captain, hardly believing the conversation they had just had. “You think this is for the best?” he asked.

“I do.”

“Well, that's all I really need to know.”

Staring back at Nick, the Captain felt a warmth burn brightly in his chest. No-one had ever trusted him so much before. 

Nick smiled. “You know,” he said, “I think your explanation might give some reasons for the incredibly weird day I've had.”

“Oh?” Renard asked, unconsciously leaning closer to him.

Smiling, Nick began to talk about his day – from mauzhertz to lowen to gossiping wesen.

*

The call from the Building Guard interrupted one of Nick's stories of things he'd done as a Grimm – before he came to know about Renard and began sharing more of what he was doing with the older man.

“Sir, Prince Viktor and King Frederick are here to see you,” the Guard informed them.

“Send them up,” Renard replied, glancing at the clock with a grimace as he pushed himself to his feet. Nick followed his gaze, startled to realise that they had been speaking for a bit over an hour. During their talk, both men had slumped back against the couch, getting comfortable.

Tugging on his suit jacket to straighten it, and to try to erase any wrinkles, Nick looked up to see Renard smiling at him.

“What?” he asked.

Shaking his head, the Captain stepped forward, reaching out to pass his hands over the front of Nick's suit. Renard's own suit appeared to be made of some never-wrinkle fabric that Nick envied greatly in that moment (he ignored the small voice in his head that suggested he would have liked a reason to touch the Captain as well).

Firm hands swept down Nick's chest, burning through the layers of fabric between them. His throat went dry and his breath caught.

There was a knock on the door, followed immediately by the sound of it opening.

“Sean!” King Frederick called. Glancing over his Captain's shoulder, Nick watched the two royals enter the apartment. Renard's hands were on his sides, smoothing the fabric there, before moving easily to straighten his tie. Nick swallowed. Renard shot him a grin.

Turning to his family members, Renard took them in with a glance. “Father, Viktor,” he said. “So glad you could join us this evening. I thought we were meeting you at the restaurant?”

“Oh, no need for that,” Frederick replied. “After all, this gives us a bit more time to catch up.” His eyes moved between the two men, taking in the way they stood close together, not quite touching, but almost doing so. There was an ease in their body language that spoke of complete confidence and trust in the other. It was intriguing to see. Especially considering that his son was half-zauberbiest, and the other man was a Grimm.

“Very well,” said Renard. “Just give us a moment, and we'll be ready to leave.”

Frederick nodded, watching as both men turned, heading further into the apartment. He wanted to follow after them, to see what they were doing, but knew not to push his luck. They needed to tread carefully.

Following Renard through the apartment, Nick's eyes widened as he realised they were entering the other man's room. He paused in the doorway, hanging back as he watched Renard enter, grabbing a phone from the bedside table, along with his watch, a few papers, and a small vial.

Nick's brows furrowed. He was sure he had seen something like that vial before – although he couldn't quite place it.

“Ready?” Renard asked, glancing up at him.

For a moment, Nick felt the sudden panic of pretending to be dating his boss wash over him once more, before he deliberately pushed it away. Really, it couldn't be that hard, could it?

“Ready,” he agreed.

*

The car ride to the restaurant passed in small talk. Discussion of the weather. The royal's flight to Portland from Europe. Renard's latest award as a Police Captain. Nick was thankful that the conversation stayed mainly away from him. They rode in a limo, stretch, Nick sitting close enough to Renard that their sides brushed against each other each time they went around a corner. He thought perhaps it should have been strange or awkward, but it wasn't. In fact, it felt like he had hardly moved closer to the Captain than usual – and he wondered whether they had always stood or sat that close (or almost that close), and he simply hadn't realised as he wasn't watching for it.

Stopping out the front of El Gaucho, they quickly left the limo, heading inside to where they were shown to a small, private table, tucked into a corner out of the way with windows looking out over the city providing them with a magnificent view. The dim, warm lighting and elegant table settings reminded Nick that, in some ways, this was a date. 

As they approached the table, Renard stepped forward, pulling out a chair for Nick. He glanced at his Captain, but said nothing, realising that presenting a united front was far more important than quibbling over being treated like the 'girl' in the relationship (fake though it was). The small quirk to Renard's lips suggested he was well aware of Nick's thoughts, which caused the detective to shoot him a quick grin in return.

Once seated, the small talk continued, Nick content to mainly listen. They ordered their food – Renard adding a side to Nick's dish without asking, while Nick retaliated by suggesting the wine (one he new the Captain particularly liked). 

“So, Nick,” Viktor began once their food was served, shaking out his napkin as he did so. “You don't mind if I call you Nick, do you?”

“As long as I can call you Viktor,” he replied, smiling across at the Prince. Viktor tilted his head in acknowledgement.

“I must say, I was rather surprised to hear that you had taken up with my cousin. He isn't exactly the sort of person your family normally associates with.”

Spearing a carrot with his fork, Nick kept his face relaxed as he replied. “Sometimes,” he said, “I think that people can break sufficiently away from their families that they can be seen as their own person. Strong, unique, and worth judging on their own merit.”

Lifting his wine glass to take a sip, Renard hid his grin behind it. 

“It does you credit,” Viktor replied. “Though I can't say I entirely disagree with your family's teachings.”

“I wasn't talking about myself.”

There was a pause, food lifted to mouths in silence.

“It has been rather sudden, though, hasn't it?” Frederick asked. “Your relationship? One moment I'm wondering about the new Grimm and the next I hear that he's in a relationship with my son.”

Nick made a mental note to ask Renard later just when the royals had been informed of their relationship, but figured it was likely once they were confirmed to be on their way to Portland. Or perhaps when they landed. 

“You have to admit that we haven't really kept up our relationship over the years,” Renard said smoothly, “so it is hardly surprising that you haven't been privy to all the details of my life.”

“Still, it has to be a fairly new relationship, doesn't it?” Frederick asked. “Surely not more than a day or so old? It certainly appeared to be news to your colleagues.” There was a suspicious spark in his eyes that Nick didn't like. 

Nick let out a groan, remembering Hank and Wu's reactions. “You noticed that, huh?” he asked, shaking his head. “Look, I'm sure you realise that, as Sean is my boss, we've had to be rather careful about letting anyone become aware of our relationship. While it is really only a concern in the human world, it could cause significant challenges for us at work should our relationship become known.” He shrugged. 

“And yet some of your colleagues now know,” Viktor interjected.

“They do,” Renard agreed, before turning to Nick. “Which reminds me.” He dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out the papers he had picked up from beside his bed and passing them over to Nick, along with a pen. “Sign here,” he said, indicating a signature line.

Taking the pen, Nick glanced down at the papers, scrawling his name across the line without reading them. “What's this?” he asked.

The slight start Viktor gave suggested Nick's trust in the Captain was a surprise to him.

Renard smiled. “I promised I would take care of our work situation and I have,” he said. “Officially, you are now transferred to being under Captain Benson. Practically, you'll continue to work just as you have been. However, as we are no longer technically in the same chain of command, any relationship between us would be beyond reproach.”

Nick blinked, taking it in. “Wow,” he said. Then he groaned. “This means Wu's going to be able to claim the pot, doesn't it?” he asked.

“I'm afraid so,” Renard replied, tone conciliatory, but eyes dancing with laughter as he reached out to cover Nick's hand with his own.

“The pot?” Viktor asked.

Nick sighed. “Wu's the guy to see if you want to place a bet,” he explained. “About anything. I found out today, due to our – indiscretion – that there has been a pot going concerned Sean's and my relationship.”

Viktor blinked, taking that in. “Then perhaps you weren't as circumspect as you thought,” he said.

Renard laughed. “We work with some of the best detectives in the world,” he said, “I'm not surprised we couldn't entirely pull one over on them.”

Their conversation drifted back towards small talk, and Nick felt like they'd won a victory. The way Renard's hand dropped down below the table for a moment, squeezing his thigh in thanks, confirmed those thoughts.

Excusing himself to use the bathroom before dessert, Nick was heading back towards their table when he bumped into Viktor. The Prince stepped into his path, causing Nick to come to a halt.

“Viktor,” he said.

“Grimm,” the Prince replied. Nick quirked one eyebrow, waiting. Viktor's eyes swept over Nick, from head to toe and then back up again. There was a hunger in them that made Nick tense. “You can do much, much better than my half-cousin, you know,” Viktor said. “A bastard royal who is half-beast and will always be overshadowed by the real members of the family.” He reached out, intending to place his hand on Nick's shoulder, but Nick moved, neatly stepping out of the way. A flash of annoyance crossed Viktor's face, before he smoothed it out into a somewhat charming smile once more. “There is much I can offer you,” he said, “why settle for the bastard throwaway of the family when you could have someone so much better?”

Face tight with tension, Nick drew a deep breath, silently reciting the main information Monroe had imparted to him that afternoon. He wanted to cut off Viktor's head – which he thought was really saying something considering that, as a Grimm, he was expected to go around chopping off wesen heads, but which he'd never really felt the desire to do before.

“I'm afraid you seem to have been misinformed,” he said. “Sean Renard is no way, shape, or form, inferior to anyone in this restaurant – or outside it.” He let his eyes drag over Viktor, inserting a degree of contempt into them. “I would even go so far as to say that he surpasses everyone here in every way. You have insulted myself and my lover,” he finished, using the formal words. “I take my leave of you.” 

Smartly side-stepping Viktor, Nick strode back over to the table, where he came to a halt beside Renard. The older man glanced up at him, sensing his tension. “Nick?” he asked.

“I have been insulted,” Nick replied. “I would take our leave.”

Renard blinked, taking in his words, before swiftly rising to his feet with a nod. “Of course,” he said. “If that is your wish.”

“It is.”

“Excuse me, father,” Renard said smoothly, placing his napkin by his plate on the table. “We take our leave of you.” Turning, he ushered Nick before him with a hand on the small of his back, guiding them quickly through the restaurant and into the cool night air outside.

Glancing around, the Captain saw their limo from earlier parked nearby, raising a hand to motion it towards them. “Nicely done,” he told Nick in an undertone. “I didn't realise you knew enough about court etiquette to navigate it so well.”

Nick let out a short laugh. “Oh, I don't,” he said. “Or rather, I didn't. I got a crash course in it this afternoon from Monroe. I think my head's still spinning.”

The limo pulled up beside them and Renard reached out, smoothly opening the door for Nick, before climbing in after him. Despite being the only ones in the back of the limo, and having no-one watching them, they still sat close.

“Well, I'll have to thank Monroe, then,” Renard told him with a chuckle. “Because you performed perfectly.” He frowned. “What did Viktor say to insult you?”

“He suggested I should leave you for him,” Nick replied bluntly. “I let him know he had nothing at all I was tempted by, and then informed him he had insulted us and I was talking my leave.”

Renard laughed. “I would have liked to have seen that,” he said. Nick didn't reply, but silently thought that he was glad the Captain hadn't seen, or heard, it. The things Viktor had said had not been nice.

*

They returned to Renard's apartment, Nick pulling at his tie to loosen it as they entered. It seemed to be stuck and he tugged hard at it in frustration. Turning back from placing down his keys, Renard smirked at him.

“Here, let me,” he said, motioning Nick forward. Dropping his hands from his tie, Nick stepped forward, tilting his head back to bare his throat and the knot he'd managed to make of his tie.

Carefully loosening the knot, Renard shook his head. “However did you manage this?” he asked.

Nick laughed, his adam's apple scraping against Renard's fingers as he did so. “Everyone has their own particular talent,” he said.

Renard let out something that, had it come from anyone else, Nick would have called a snort. “This isn't exactly what I would have called your particular talent,” he said.

“Oh?” Nick asked, “and what would you call it?” Renard's hands dropped from his tie as the knot finally came loose, and Nick lowered his chin so that he could look Renard in the eyes.

The older man opened his mouth to reply when Nick frowned, holding up a hand to halt him. Eyes narrowing, Renard watched as Nick titled his head, listening, before moving swiftly over to a painting on the wall. Reaching up, he ran his fingers along the edge, tugging at something. Turning, he held his hand out to Renard, showing him the small listening device nestled in his palm.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Renard took a deep breath, frustration, betrayal and anger washing over him. Giving him a tight smile, Nick moved passed Renard, sweeping through the other rooms of the apartment. By the time he finished, they had a pile of roughly half-a-dozen bugs littered on the island bench in the kitchen.

Turning to Renard, Nick lifted his eyebrows in silent query. Rubbing at his forehead, Renard waved one hand towards Nick, and then the bugs.

“Okay,” Nick replied. The first thing either had said since Nick found the first bug. Moving over to one of the kitchen drawers, Nick pulled it out, grabbing a mallet from the drawer and moving back over towards the bench. “You know,” he said, “I've got a Kanabo that would work even better.”

Renard let out a soft laugh. “Yes, I know,” he replied, shaking his head.

Grinning back at him, Nick lifted the mallet, before slammed it down against the bugs. Bits of plastic and circuitry groaned, cracked and scattered across the bench. Whacking it all a few more times for good measure, Nick frowned down at the broken pieces, listening.

“Well,” he said, glancing over at Renard. The Captain raised an eyebrow, questioning. Nick shook his head.

Frowning, Renard glanced around them, a slight unease in his eyes that Nick could only see because of how well he knew the man.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to touch Renard's arm. “Why don't we head back to the house?” He left off the 'my', just in case he was wrong and had missed a bug somewhere. No need to say anything that would give the royals any ammunition against them.

Breathing in, Renard nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that'd be good.” He shot Nick a grateful glance that the detective nodded in response to.

*

It didn't take Renard long to gather a few clothes and toiletries. They walked down to Nick's car in silence, both climbing in, before Nick drove them back to his place. At first, he thought it would be weird, sitting in silence with his boss, but there was an ease and comfort to the silence. 

Parking in front of his house, Nick breathed out a sigh of relief to see a lack of baked goods waiting for him on the porch. Considering the day he'd had, he'd wouldn't have been too surprised if that was what he had come back to.

Renard short him a curious glance, but Nick just grinned in reply, shaking his head.

He paused before entering the house, and then again once inside, listening carefully for anything that would indicate that his house, also, had been compromised. There was nothing.

Without speaking, they headed upstairs, Nick quickly changing into some sleep pants, while Renard slipped into the bathroom, stealing one of the spare toothbrushes in order to clean his teeth. Nick left off his pyjama top, the night being fairly balmly (he ignored the small voice that suggested it was because Renard was there).

Moving past Renard into the bathroom, he quickly cleaned his own teeth, as the Captain stepped back into the bedroom to change. Before long, they were both ready for bed.

Flopping down onto the bed, Nick let out a heavy sigh.

“You'll sleep better under the covers,” Renard told him. Glancing up, Nick forced a small grin onto his face (it wasn't nearly as hard as he had thought it would be – then again, Renard had also forgone wearing a pyjama top, and the view was rather nice). 

Wriggling over, Nick let Renard pull the covers out from under him, before tossing them back over the detective. Shoving the material off his face, Nick shot Renard a glare, but the other man simply grinned, slipping into the other side of the bed.

For a moment, Nick wondered whether he should question their sleeping arrangement. There was no-one there to see them, after all. And, while someone may try to surprise them with a visit, the likelihood of that, especially after they had taken their leave, was slim to none.

“They'll be able to smell it on us,” Renard murmured, as though hearing Nick's thoughts.

Rolling onto his side, Nick stared across at him.

“It's likely what they were scenting on you today,” Renard continued. “Me.” There was a hint of pride in his voice as he spoke.

Nick blinked. “Just from one kiss?” he asked.

Renard chuckled. “One kiss, and some full-body contact,” he replied. Nick rolled his eyes, but couldn't disagree – they had been basically pressed up against each other. His heart skipped a beat in memory of it.

Shifting to stare up at the ceiling, Nick felt his eyes begin to flutter closed. FH wriggled closer to Renard. “I guess we'd better make sure to have some more contact, then,” he muttered.

“Mmm,” Renard agreed, reaching out and drawing Nick towards him. There was an awkward moment where they both flailed a little, trying to get into a comfortable position, and then suddenly everything just seemed to fall into place.

Nick felt his entire body relaxing, as though trying to sink into Renard beneath him. His head was on Renard's shoulder, one arm flung over the sculpted chest, his corresponding leg slipped between two powerful thighs.

A strong arm wrapped around Nick's waist, holding him close, the other hand wrapped firmly around Nick's wrist where it rested on Renard's chest, and he could feel Renard's breath brushing through his hair. 

“Sleep,” Renard murmured. “It's been a long day.”

Nick wanted to snort a laugh in response, perhaps say something along the lines of that being an understatement, but between one breath and the next, he dropped off.


	2. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dead body, an announcement, a party and more congratulations. Word is spreading about Nick and Sean's new relationship, as those around them react to the news.

Nick woke up holding on. He was half-sprawled over a warm firmness that moved gently beneath him, one hand clasped tight to a smooth shoulder. As the fog of sleep lifted – helped along by the shrill ringing of his phone, Nick realised that he was plastered across Renard, their chests pressed together. His left arm was curled up so that his hand could hold tightly onto the older man's shoulder. His face was pressed against the curve where Renard's neck met his opposite shoulder, and every breath brought him the scent of the other man – cinnamon, vanilla, and something that almost smelt like electricity – a kind of power humming beneath the skin.

Nick's right hand was twined with Renard's left, wedged in between their bodies. His phone continued to ring. Letting out a sigh, Nick reluctantly pushed himself upright. Letting go of Renard's shoulder in order to lean over him to the bedside table and grab his phone.

“Burkhardt,” he said.

“Got an interesting one for you,” Wu's voice said cheerfully. “Dead body down at the docks.”

“On my way,” Nick replied.

Hanging up, he dropped his phone back down onto the table, glancing at Renard to see green eyes regarding him. “A case?” the captain asked.

Nick nodded. “Dead body at the docks,” he said. “I should go.” There was agreement in Renard's eyes, but he didn't say anything, simply watching Nick for a moment. Nick stared back at him.

A twitch at the corner of Renard's lips was all the warning Nick got – before he was suddenly grabbed and rolled. From one moment to the next, he found himself flat on his back on the bed, Renard pressed against him from hips to feet, holding his chest above Nick's so that he could look down at him.

Leaning down, Renard kissed him. Nick's mouth fell open in shock, and suddenly his captain's tongue was in his mouth, swirling around it and stroking against his own tongue. Fighting against the shock, Nick began to kiss back, a soft whine humming in the back of his throat.

Slowing the kiss, Renard pulled back. Nick blinked up at him. 

“Scent,” was the only explanation, and then Renard was leaving the bed. Watching him, Nick shook his head, trying to bring his breathing back under control. A few minutes later he felt ready to get up.

*

“We only have my car,” Nick said, hurrying down the stairs to where Renard stood in the kitchen – already impeccably dressed and preparing some toast. 

“Mmmm,” Renard hummed, glancing up at him. Nick shifted slightly, while telling himself he was being stupid – he was dressed the same way he usually was. In jeans, a sweater, and leather jacket. “I can always get a taxi,” Renard said.

“You heading in now?” Nick asked, sweeping his eyes over him. Renard nodded. “Why don't you just take mine?” Nick asked. “You can drop me at the docks first, and I'll get a lift to the station with Hank.”

“Very well.” Handing Nick a toasted sandwich wrapped in a napkin, Renard motioned him forward. “Let's go,” he said.

*

Heading out the front door, Nick felt like perhaps the entire neighbourhood was watching them. He told himself it was just in his head, and he was being paranoid, but he felt like they would all be watching, evaluating the 'relationship' between the two men.

His neighbour, an older woman who was fairly spry for her age and had lived there for the past 30 years, was watering her garden as they headed towards the truck. 

“Morning Mrs Daisy,” Nick called, smiling across at her.

“Morning Mr Nick,” she replied, a teasing note in her voice as she grinned at him. Her eyes flicked over to Renard, her grin broadening. “It's good to see you putting yourself out there again,” she said, giving an approving nod. Her grin turned wicked. “I noticed your lights turned off quite early last night.”

“Mrs Daisy -” Nick began. He could feel his face turning red.

Mrs Daisy flapped one hand at him. “Oh hush,” she said, “I was young once, too, you know.” Her eyes raked over Renard. “Besides, it looks like you've done very well for yourself.” Another sweep of her eyes. “Very well.”

Nick spluttered, not quite sure which statement to address first, or if he even should. Renard placed a hand on the small of his back, giving him a gentle push forward. “You've got a case to get to,” he reminded him.

Sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, Nick watched Mrs Daisy getting smaller behind them, still watching. Perhaps he wasn't so paranoid after all. At least one person was paying attention to them.

*

The Captain pulled up next to one of the police cruisers, cutting the engine as he jumped out of the truck. Following him, Nick approached the crime scene. Hank was already there, standing with Wu, who gave them a pointed look as they approached.

“Well, well,” said Wu, “look who's turned up together.” He smirked. “I hope I didn't interrupt anything with my phone call this morning.”

“Sleep,” Nick replied dryly. 

“What have we got here?” Renard asked, ignoring their byplay.

“Male, mid-twenties, appears to be of European descent,” Hank said, motioning towards the body. “One of the dock workers found him this morning at six. Cause of death appears to be a rather harsh blow to the back of his head. However, he's also got a number of scratches along his arms, deeper than usual.” Hank shot Nick and Renard a glance.

Squatting down next to the body as he pulled his gloves on, Nick stared at it. Reaching out, he turned one of the arms slightly, seeing what Hank had been implying. The scratches looked too deep to have been caused by normal fingernails, looking more like cat or dog-scratches.

The back of the man's head was bloodied, the skull partially crushed. 

“We have a murder weapon?” he asked, glancing up.

Wu shook his head. “We've had uniforms scouring the area, but so far nothing has been found. The guy who found the body is over there, if you want to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, standing up.

“Keep me informed on this one,” Renard said, glancing between Hank and Nick. He frowned at the body. “If he's foreign, this could get messy.”

Nodding, Nick turned away, heading towards the witness. Wu raised an eyebrow, but followed, Renard already moving back towards Nick's truck.

“That isn't awkward?” Hank asked.

“What?” Nick glanced over at him, a frown on his face, his mind already working away on the case.

Hank tilted his head back towards the Captain. “Turning up with him, after obviously having either spent the night together or getting a really early breakfast, and then immediately switching into work mode.”

“There wasn't even a goodbye kiss,” Wu interjected.

Shooting the sergeant a glare, Nick shrugged. “It is what it is,” he said. “And no, it's not really weird.” 

*

Having spoken to the witness, Nick and Hank took a walk around the docks, searching for anything that may have been missed due to it not indicating human, but rather wesen. Wu left for the precinct, with orders to try and find out who the dead body was, and check the names of anyone staying in the area who had flown in recently from Europe.

It was a just a hunch, but Nick was fairly certain that the presence of the Captain's father and cousin in Portland had something to do with the murder.

They found nothing, heading back towards Hank's car. 

Hank shook his head. “I can't believe you turned up with the Captain – and he was driving your truck,” he said.

Nick shrugged. “His family bugged his apartment,” he said, “so we took my truck back to the house last night.”

Chuckling, Hank opened the car door, climbing in. “It is so weird to hear you say that,” he said, before giving Nick a speculative look. “And yet, somehow not.”

*

Arriving at the Precinct, Nick groaned to see Officer Griegg waiting for the elevator. Not too long after Nick's Grimm powers appeared, and word began to get around as to who he was, Griegg had taken to fleeing from him.

If they saw each other in the corridor, Griegg would immediately turn around, or duck into a nearby room. He once locked himself in an interrogation room in his haste to get away from Nick. Whenever they approached an elevator at the same time, Griegg would suddenly decide that he needed to take the stairs, babbling something about how it was healthier and he needed the exercise. He had once taken a dive out of the closing doors of an elevator when Nick slipped in at the last minute. 

The gossips of the station weren't sure exactly what Nick had done to make Griegg so afraid of him, but Nick was fairly certain that Griegg was wesen. He'd never been able to prove that theory, as Griegg fled from him so consistently that he could recognise the man better by his back than his front. But what other reason would the Officer have for fleeing from Nick? 

Slowing his steps, Nick was considering taking the stairs himself – there were only so many times a man could run from him before it began to get annoying, and Griegg had passed that number long ago – when Griegg glanced up and saw him.

For a moment, Griegg's eyes widened, his mouth dropped open a little, and he glanced to the side, eyeing the stairwell. Holding his hands up in front of him, palms out, Nick opened his mouth to try (once again) to assure Griegg that he was not going to kill him.

“You going up?” Griegg asked. Nick stared at him. Beside him, Hank started. Griegg's habit of fleeing from Nick meant that it was a very long time since he had said anything to either detective.

“Yeah,” Hank said, when Nick still seemed too stunned to respond. “We are.”

Giving a shaky smile, Griegg pushed on the elevator button once more. Arriving, the elevator doors slid open and he motioned them forward and in.

Passing Griegg, Nick gave him a glance, noticing as he did so that Griegg was breathing in deeply as he passed. Perhaps the Officer wanted to get them into the elevator so that he could then take the stairs and they wouldn't be able to follow him?

But Griegg got in behind them. Hank's eyebrows rose, and he shared a glance with Nick. 

The elevator doors closed, shutting them into the small space together. Griegg fidgeted, twitching a little.

“I, uh, I -” he began, before taking a deep breath, smoothing his hands over his front, and turning to look straight at Nick. “Congratulations,” he managed to get out.

“Thanks,” Nick replied, feeling confused as to just what he meant.

Griegg waved his hands around as he continued to speak. “It's just so, so, great, you know?” he said. “You and the Prince. I mean, when I heard, at first I thought it had to be some kind of joke, but,” and he drew in a deep breath once more, shaking his head, “no joke! For us to have such a different Grimm here...”

“I've always been different,” Nick replied, feeling somewhat annoyed that being in a fake relationship with Renard was seemingly instantly achieving what he had spent ages trying to convince various wesen of – that he didn't want to just go around killing them.

“Well, yes, of course,” Griegg agreed, giving a small chuckle. “I'm still alive, aren't I?”

Nick closed his eyes, it was statements like that that made him want to strangle his ancestors.

“But it's different, you know,” Griegg continued, “you having officially acknowledged your relationship.”

Hang on, Nick thought. Officially acknowledged? Was Griegg suggesting that he and Renard had been in a secret relationship beforehand?

“It lets us wesen know exactly where you stand. Beside the Prince – protecting us.”

“I've always followed his lead,” Nick replied, “and done my best to protect everyone. That hasn't changed.”

“And we appreciate that, really,” Griegg agreed. “But this – this is official. It's, it's like a treaty's been signed, whereas before you were just working together.”

Nick gaped at him.

“And we're all really happy for you too, of course,” he said. “The two of you are good together, we've always said. So, congratulations.” At that moment, the elevator doors opened and Griegg hopped out. As he turned away, he glanced back at Nick, flashing him his woge for a moment. Willahara.

“What was that?” Hank asked, as the doors closed once more and they continued up. Nick shook his head.

“I'm not entirely sure,” he said. “Renard said the wesen community would see our relationship as a kind of alliance. An unbreakable one. As a royal, his role is to protect them. As his... significant other,” Nick finally decided on, realising he was going to have to ask Renard what he preferred to be called, “I therefore have an alliance with him, which means I work with him to protect them.”

Hank stared at him. “Your relationship is an unbreakable alliance?” he asked.

Nick shrugged. “Well, to be truly unbreakable, we'd need to be married,” he said. “But this is almost as good.”

“Huh.”

Arriving at their floor, they headed into bullpen, Wu glancing up with a large smile on his face as they did so.

“Just who I wanted to see!” he declared, rubbing his hands together in glee. 

Hank and Nick shared a glance.

“Oh please,” Wu replied, “like you didn't know this was coming.” He seemed to be speaking specifically to Nick. “You arrived together this morning. And, while he's been incredibly tight-lipped about it, all the Captain would say was that he had an announcement to make once you both were back.” He glanced between them. “Which you are.”

“Oh,” Nick muttered, turning to face Hank, suddenly realising that he really should have spoken to his partner about this earlier.

“Oh what?” Hank asked.

“Everyone,” Renard's voice cut through the chatter of the room easily as all heads turned towards him. “As Sergeant Wu has been repeatedly reminding me, I have an announcement to make.” He glanced over at Nick before continuing.

“Yesterday evening, Detective Burkhardt accepted a transfer to Captain Benson's supervision.” 

There was an immediate uproar. Cries of confusion and dismay overlapping.

“What?” Hank gasped, spinning on his partner. “Nick?!”

“I -” Nick began.

“Enough!” Renard shouted. Everyone fell silent. He glanced around at them, a few people shuffling in place under his gaze. “This transfer,” he said, “will not affect Detective Burkhardt's continued work as part of this department.” A few glances were shared as people tried to figure it out. “He will continue to partner with Detective Griffin, and work here with all of us. However, officially, his direct supervisor as of yesterday evening is Captain Benson.

“That said, yes, Wu, you may claim the pot.” Giving Nick a brief nod, Renard turned on his heel, heading back into his office. Behind him, the bullpen burst out in a flurry of conversations.

“Excellent!” Wu declared.

“Oh come on,” Franco replied, “you can't have won again!”

“You should not bet against the master,” Wu informed him seriously.

This was followed by various exclamations along the lines of everyone hating the fact that their hard-earned cash was headed to Wu.

Nick stared around at them. “You were all in on it?” he asked.

Holtby rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “We are detectives, Burkhardt.”

Shaking his head, Nick continued to stare around the room. The exchange of small bills between hands suggested that there had been some minor, individual betting going on as well. He half-expected someone to stand up and claim that it was unfair, he was being shown favouritism and Renard should be reprimanded for being in a relationship with one of his detectives.

It didn't happen. And Nick realised that Renard had never even said they were together, simply that Wu could claim the pot. 

“Don't look so surprised,” Hank told him. “You know what the betting's like around here.”

Nick shook his head. “It's not the betting that surprises me,” he replied. “It's...” he waved one hand around, to indicate the general acceptance and joviality around them.

“Speaking of,” Wu said, glancing over at Franco. The other man nodded, disappearing in the direction of the kitchen. Putting his fingers to his lips, Wu let out a shrill whistle, getting everyone's attention. “Right,” Wu said, “somebody get the Captain. We'll need him for this.”

A uniform ducked into Renard's office, reappearing moments later with the Captain in tow. Renard's eyes glanced over towards Nick, before sweeping around the room and finally landing upon Wu.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Don't look at me,” Wu replied, holding up his hands. “This was all Franco's idea.”

“Which you are obviously helping with,” Renard returned easily.

Wu turned to Bauer. “Cue music,” he said. Nodding, the Detective reached over to his computer, pressing a couple of buttons. Moments later, the sound of 'Love is in the air' by John Paul Young began to play. Nick groaned.

A wave of laughter rippled out from the doorway, making Nick turn to watch as Franco returned – pushing in a trolley with a large cake on top. The rectangular cake was covered in white icing, upon which a large 'congratulations' had been written in green, beneath which, in brackets, there was a smaller '(finally)'. To the side, a pair of handcuffs had been drawn in grey icing, a diamond ring hanging from one of the cuffs.

Groaning again, Nick took the few steps forward needed to collapse down into his chair. He wanted to bang his head against the desk. Hank laughed, giving him a slap on the back. 

A few uniforms followed Franco in, bringing trolleys with wine glasses on top.

“Not to worry,” Franco assured the Captain, “they're completely non-alcoholic.” There was movement as people pressed forward to grab a drink, passing them around. Hank pushed one towards Nick across the desk, grinning at him and waggling his eyebrows.

“Everyone got a drink?” Wu asked. There were calls of assent. “Great! To Captain Renard – the greatest captain Portland has ever seen, and Detective Burkhardt – perhaps the craziest detective we've ever seen,” there was laughter, “congratulations, and thank you! The sexual tension was getting a bit crazy.” More laughter. Grinning, Wu lifted his glass. “Live long and prosper,” he said. “Finally.”

“Finally!” was echoed around the room.

Shaking his head, Nick stared around at them. 

“You're still looking shocked,” Hank told him.

“I just – I can't believe everyone was expecting this.”

Hank snorted at him. “Right,” he said, “because you've always been so circumspect.”

Nick frowned at him.

“Let's see,” Hank continued, smirk firmly fixed on his face. “What was it you said when you first saw the Captain?” Nick's eyes widened and he began frantically shaking his head. “Ah, yes, I remember now -”

“Hank,” Nick warned.

“- we were standing in the foyer, you were just a newby, -”

“Hank.” 

“- when in walked the Captain with a couple of unis and, I swear, your eyes almost popped out of your head.”

“Hank.” A bit of growl slipped into his tone.

“You swept your eyes over him, head to toe, before asking, and I quote -”

“Hank!”

“'Please tell me they arrested him for indecent amounts of sexiness -'”

“Hank!!”

“'- and that I can get in on the interrogation.'”

Groaning, Nick let his head thump down onto the desk. “Kill me now,” he muttered.

The laughter that surrounded them let him know that he wasn't the only one to have heard what Hank said.

“Ouch,” Wu said, “those were some lame lines.”

“I hate you all,” Nick told him. “And you,” he pointed at Hank without lifting his head. “You are officially the Worst. Partner. Ever. You don't go saying things like that! As my partner, you're meant to keep my secrets and help make me look good, not go around reciting all my embarrassing moments!”

“I'm just saying,” Hank replied, “this, not so much a surprise.”

“Kill me now,” Nick repeated. 

“I'd rather not,” Renard said. Startled, Nick flung his head upright, spinning in his chair to face the Captain – who was standing a few feet away. The grin in his eyes suggested he'd heard everything. Nick groaned.

Wu glanced between them. “Kiss!” he called out. Nick choked. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” the cry was taken up. Nick rolled his eyes, before raising an eyebrow. Renard stared straight back at him. Sighing, the Captain took a step forward. Grinning, Nick pushed himself to his feet. Cheers rang out.

Reaching Nick, Renard tilted his head to the side. Nick dipped his chin in a nod. Smile twitching at the corners of his lips, Renard reached out, grabbing Nick and spinning him into a dip. Whistles and catcalls greeted the move. Renard froze for a moment, leant over Nick, his arms steel bands around the detective, holding him up.

“Wait!” Nick said. Something flickered across Renard's eyes as he frowned down at Nick. Turning his head, Nick glared across at Hank and Wu. “This isn't going to make Wu win another bet is it?” he asked. 

Hank laughed.

“Unfortunately not,” Wu replied. 

“Oh no,” Franco agreed, “there's no pot on this one.”

“Okay,” Nick replied, turning back to look up at the Captain. Raising his eyebrows, he stared into Renard's green eyes, waiting.

Leaning down, Renard pressed his lips against Nick's, pulling the detective closer to him as the kiss deepened, tongues twining and lips moving. They held the kiss for long moments, before Renard began to move back, gently pulling Nick back upright as he did so.

Around them, the laughter and cheers had died down to genuine congratulations, as the men and women pressed forward, expressing their best wishes for the two. 

“O-kay,” Wu said, “that was a little more than I was expecting.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Nick replied, shooting him a superior smirk.

Wu's eyes narrowed. “At least my lines are far more sophisticated than yours.

“That was years ago!” Nick defended himself. “Besides, you'd have to be dead not to notice the Captain is good looking.” Renard shot him a glance at that, but continued to accept his officer's congratulations. 

Wu held his hands up. “I'm not going there,” he said, before adding slyly, “do you call him Captain in bed, too?”

“We're at work!” Nick snapped back.

“And he's no longer your direct supervisor.”

“Still at work.”

“All right,” Renard declared, once a few minutes had passed. “That's enough! You all have work to do.”

There was slight grumbling, but the general consensus was that Captain Renard had been particularly lenient with them so far that day (most likely due to his assumed happiness at having his relationship with Detective Burkhardt finally out in the open and officially sanctioned).

“Drinks, tonight, Sandy's, 8 o'clock.” Wu called out, heading off to find something to do.

*

The next hour was spent making multiple phonecalls, before Wu reappeared, grinning brightly.

“And just who is your favourite Sergeant?” he asked them.

“That depends,” Hank replied, “what do you have for us?”

“Just the name of our victim.” Slapping the papers in his hand down onto the desk, Wu pointed at them. “One of the unis called in an abandoned car. Rental. Currently on loan to Pierre Jordau.” He tapped the print-out of an international drivers licence. “You seeing what I'm seeing?” he asked.

“Looks like our guy,” Nick said. “When did he pick up the car?”

“Yesterday, about 10:15 in the morning. He isn't listed on any commercial flights into the city, which means he would have had to either not have arrived by plane, or, he came in on a private jet. There were two private jets which landed before 10:15 yesterday morning – one from France, listed as belonging to and carrying Madame Je-naux, the opera singer. The other, arriving from Austria, and belonging to GQR industries.” He frowned. “Which, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't that container full of torn up dead people we had a year ago come from them, too?”

“You're not wrong,” Nick replied, grabbing the pages and pushing himself to his feet.

“If the vic's this Jordau,” Hank said, “then it's going to be a Federal case.”

“Mmm,” Nick agreed, making his way towards Renard's office. He tensed slightly, waiting for the teasing to come. Something along the lines of him not wanting to be away from his boyfriend for too long. But none came. A quick glance showed that, while the others were aware of where he was headed, they were treating it like any other day. Nick was just doing his job.

Knocking on the door, Nick pushed it open upon Renard's, “Yeah?”

“Got an ID on our vic,” he said, Hank and Wu following him into the office. 

“Who is he?”

“Pierre Jordau, French.”

Renard sighed. “Which makes this a Federal case,” he said.

Nick nodded. 

“All right. Keep working on it – see what you can dig up before the Feds get here, but keep it together so we can hand it over to them. I'll make the call.”

“It's not confirmed,” Nick said, “but it's possible he arrived on a private jet registered to GQR Industries.” Renard froze, hand stretched out towards his phone, glancing up at Nick. There was understanding in his eyes. 

“Keep me posted,” he said.

*

Leaving the car rental offices at the airport – having confirmed that their victim had been alone when he hired the car, and gave no indication of why he was there or where he was going, Hank glanced over at Nick.

“Lunch?” he suggested.

“Lunch,” Nick agreed.

They soon found themselves at a small cafe, leaning back in their seats as they waited for their food. 

“While I am glad that things are working out for you and the Captain,” Hank said, causing Nick to glance over at him, “next time I'd appreciate a little more warning.”

Nick chuckled. “You had almost as much warning as I had,” he said.

Hank frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nick shook his head. “I found out last night – at dinner with with his family – when he gave me the papers to sign.”

“This wasn't something you'd talked about?”

Nick hesitated, unsure just what to tell Hank. Should he let him in on the 'fake' nature of their relationship? Or keep the ruse going with him, too? Deciding that it was too risky to say anything about it to Hank – they couldn't afford any suspicion that their relationship wasn't exactly what they said it was, Nick gave a small smile. “Does, 'I'll take care of it' count as talking about it?” he asked.

“And you just signed? Just like that?”

“I trust him.”

“All right, I can see that.” Hank grinned. “Just be careful what he puts in front of you to sign, or before you know it, you'll be tying the knot.”

Opening his mouth to reply, Nick paused as his phone rang. “Burkhardt,” he said, answering the call.

“Nick, Nick hey, it's uh, it's Bud.”

“Bud,” he replied. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing. Well, not nothing exactly. Just, that's not really the reason I called. I was, uh, well, I heard the news. So I wanted to make sure that you know that we're behind you. 100%. The whole Lodge. Had a special meeting yesterday evening and everything. Everyone's so excited by the news. And I said, I said, 'Nick, he's my friend. So I'll, uh, I'll pass on your congratulations to him.' Which is why I'm calling. To congratulate you. 

“So, congratulations! From all of us. The wife is beside herself with happiness, let me tell you. And the boys – well, they wanted to stop round last night, but I told them that wasn't really necessary. I figured you'd probably have some of your own celebrating to do, you know. So, best to leave it a night or two.”

“Thanks,” Nick cut in, relieved that he and Renard hadn't been disturbed the night before by any young eisbibers, and resolutely not thinking about the fact that Bud obviously thought he'd been having celebratory sex the night before. 

“Well, anyway, don't want to keep you too long,” Bud continued. “I know you're a busy man and all. Just, wanted to make sure you knew you had our support. Both of you. And you need anything – anything at all, you just let us know.”

“Thanks, Bud, but I think we're good for now.”

“Just, keep it in mind. Oh, and, uh, the boys – they drew you a little something, to celebrate. So, you may end up receiving that at work today. I suggested they wait, but the wife encouraged them. You know how it is.”

“Right.”

“Okay. Well, I'll let you go. Bye, Nick.”

“Bye.”

Shaking his head, Nick turned to look at Hank. “Interesting conversation?” Hank asked.

“That's one way of putting it,” Nick replied. “Bud rang to assure me that Sean and I have the support of the Lodge.”

“The eisbiber community?”

“Yeah. And to offer their congratulations.”

“Well, that's good, isn't it? Means this relationship isn't going to interfere with your friendships in the wesen community.”

Nick shrugged. “Based on Griegg's reaction this morning, I don't think we need to worry about anyone opposing it. Their reaction seems to be the opposite.”

“So enjoy it,” Hank told him. “Because I got the impression the Captain's family wasn't quite so happy about it.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “Understatement.”

Hank frowned. “They giving you grief?”

“Nothing overt, yet,” Nick replied. “Just, keep your eyes open?”

“You think they may try something?”

“Apparently being a Grimm makes you some kind of commodity that royalty will fight over,” Nick replied. “By making my relationship with Sean known, it gives us a level of protection from them. Something about royal rules they're meant to follow.”

“So your relationship being made public was a political move?”

“In a way. I mean, it would have happened sooner or later. But yes, their arrival did ensure it happened sooner.”

“In that case, you're forgiven for not giving me any earlier warning. This time.”

Grinning, Nick focused on his food.

*

Climbing into Hank's car to head back to the precinct, Nick groaned.

“What?” Hank asked.

“Bud knows. My house is going to be swamped in baked goods and handicrafts!” Nick declared. 

Laughing, Hank pulled them away from the curb.

*

“Tell me you have good news,” Hank said as they met Wu at the entrance to the bullpen. 

“I have news,” he replied. “Whether it's good or not...”

“Let's have it,” Nick said.

“I've been able to confirm that Pierre Jordau arrived in Portland on a GQR private jet yesterday morning. He wasn't the only one. Among those who arrived were a Prince Viktor and King Frederick,” Wu turned to Nick with raised eyebrows. “The not-so-close family of our beloved – moreso in your case – Captain.”

Nick groaned. “Great,” he said.

“Oh, it gets better,” Wu replied. “One of their security detail has been able to positively identify our vic as Mr Jordau. However, as he split with them before even leaving the airport, all we know is that at some time after 10:15am yesterday he left the airport. And sometime before 6 this morning, he parked his car on a side-street by the docks, before being killed and left at the docks. So far, we have no idea what he did in between those times. Although the ME has put the time of death at around 2am.”

“How new was the car?” Nick asked.

“The rental?”

“Yeah.”

“Fairly new. Just a couple of years old.”

“Right, check with the rental company – some of the new cars have GPS tracking to make sure they aren't taken outside the designated area, or in case someone decides to simply drive off and never return it.”

“Okay. Will do,” Wu agreed. He paused. “They want to talk to you,” he said.

Nick frowned. “Who?”

“Prince Viktor and King Frederick. Claim that, as the case involves one of their employees, it involves them.”

“So they're claiming him as an employee,” Nick murmured. He glanced towards Renard's office. “What does the Captain say?”

“They also asked to see him – he's unavoidably detained in meetings all day.” Wu paused, looking curious. “Are you also unavoidably detained?”

“Yeah,” Nick said. “Yeah, I am. If they complain, reassure them that I am doing everything in my power to figure out exactly what happened. Which is taking up all my time at the moment.”

“Right,” Wu agreed. He glanced between them. “I'm sensing a bit of tension here,” he said, “dinner didn't go too well last night?”

Nick hesitated, wondering just what to say, before deciding to be honest. “Viktor,” he said, “took the time to inform me that I should dump Sean in order to go out with him, as he was obviously the better choice.” Wu gaped at him. Nick nodded, a not very pleasant smile on his face. “I let him know that was never going to happen, and he was entirely incorrect, before asking Sean to leave. So, tension yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“O-kay,” Wu replied. “Give them the run-around. I can do that.” He nodded. 

“Thanks,” Nick said, slapping him on the shoulder.

Moving towards their desks, Nick and Hank were stopped by the sound of their names.

“Nick, Hank,” Renard called, standing in his office doorway. He motioned them over. “Shut the door,” he added as they entered.

Doing so, Nick turned back around to stare at Renard.

“Wu updated you?” the Captain asked.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “I told him I'm unavailable.” The barest touch of a smile twitched at the corner of the Captain's lips.

“Good,” he said. 

“Why do I feel like I'm missing something?” Hank asked.

“Royal politics,” Nick told him. “Basically, what Viktor said last night was a major offence, so in response, we get to ignore them for a bit.”

“Twenty-four hours at least,” Renard said. “Which was a brilliant move on your part.”

“So you said,” Nick agreed. They shared a grin. Raising his eyebrows, Hank leant back in his chair. 

“The Feds should be here soon,” Renard continued. “Franco's managed to round up most of those who were working at the docks last night. See what you can find out from them. And put it all together for the Feds. Then they can deal with my demanding family.”

“Why do you think Jordau was here?” Nick asked. Renard glanced at him. “He arrived yesterday with Viktor and Frederick,” Nick said. “But he split off from them straight away. Why?”

“Any number of reasons,” Renard replied. “It's possible he was sent to spy on us, or speak to any allies they have in the area, or simply sent out to cause problems to draw our attention.”

“By dying?” Hank asked. “Wouldn't it have been a bigger problem if he was killing people? Instead of letting himself be killed?”

“Now that we've got a name, I've got my people looking for any further information on him,” Renard said. “But I doubt he intended to be killed.”

“So who, or what, did he go up against?” Hank asked.

“I don't know yet.” Nick replied. “But those scratches on his arms weren't made by human fingernails.”

“But why scratch him up, then kill him by hitting him in the head?”

“The ME suggested the scratch marks looked defensive,” Renard said. “And the head-wound was likely caused by a long, heavy object, like a pole or plank of wood. Which it would be easy to find at the docks.”

“So he went out to cause trouble,” Nick said, “but chose the wrong wesen to mess with.”

“It's a possibility.”

Pushing themselves to their feet, Hank and Nick moved towards the door.

“Nick,” Renard called out. Pausing, Nick glanced back at him. “Be careful. Whatever it is they have planned – it's not going to be good for you.”

“Or you,” he replied. Nodding to acknowledge his detective's concern, Renard watched them leave.

*

After a couple of hours of mind-numbing interviews, they were no closer to determining what had happened. The dock workers they had interviewed had all told the same story. They had arrived to work, not seeing anything strange, work went as usual, and then they left. They didn't see or hear anything. 

“Okay,” Nick said, taping a pen against his notebook as they sat at their desks, compiling their information. He blinked. “What if we mapped where they were all working?” he asked.

“What?” glancing up, Hank frowned at him.

“Freddy said he worked at the top end, Bonny down the bottom,” Nick said, flicking through his notebook. “But I don't remember anyone saying they worked near where the body was found.”

“Which is why it wasn't found until the morning,” Hank said, “which was when Mr Towns arrived to start his shift in that area.”

“So, how big is this area that no-one works in at night?” Nick asked. “And what else is near it?”

Nodding, Hank wheeled himself closer, grabbing a map of the docks as he did so.

Consulting their notes, they were able to put together a rough sketch of just where the dock workers had been the night before, which left a clear, empty space.

“This is the street the car was found on,” Hank said, tapping his finger against the map.

“But he couldn't have entered the docks from there,” Nick said, “as we've got workers in that area.” He pointed to a section a bit further down. “Our dead-zone meets the streets here.”

“Isn't there a club there?” Hank asked.

Nick glanced up at him. “You're thinking he went to the club. Met someone.”

“They go for a wander towards the docks – water's lovely in the moonlight.”

“He gets a little too physical, a little too rough.”

“She's got some hidden attributes that come out when threatened, scratching up his arms pretty good.” 

“She runs, he chases her.”

“Scared, she grabs the nearest thing she can, and hits him with it.”

“He goes down hard, she flees, keeping her weapon in case he comes back after her.”

“So, why didn't she report it to the police?” Hank asked.

Nick frowned. “If she's wesen,” he said, “she might be afraid that she won't be able to explain exactly what happened.” 

“Still, it's just a theory,” Hank said.

Nick nodded. “Best we've got so far, though,” he replied.

“Nick. Hank.” Glancing up, they saw Renard motioning them towards his office once more. A smartly dressed couple were standing with him.

“Guess those're the Feds we've been expecting,” Hank said.

Grabbing their notes, they made their way into the office.

“Detectives Burkhardt and Griffin,” Renard said, “there are Special Agents Mackey and Thicke. Agents, these are the detectives who have been working the case.”

The next few moments were spent going over their findings so far with the Agents, before they were released. 

“Thank you, detectives,” Agent Mackey said, shaking their hands. “We appreciate the work you've done on this for us. If we have any questions -”

“You know where to find us,” Nick replied.

*

“I didn't know you had nephews,” Wu said as Nick approached his desk. 

“I don't,” he replied.

“Huh. Well, someone dropped that off for you.” Wu nodded towards Nick's desk, where a couple of brightly coloured drawings lay. Moving over to them, Nick picked them up, smiling as he stared down at them.

The first drawing was obviously and him and the Captain. Their stick-figures were rounded out with brightly-coloured clothes, tufts of hair, and their eyes. Leaning over Nick's shoulder, Wu studied it.

“I can understand a kid using black for your eyes,” he said, motioning to the large, black pools that adorned stick-figure Nick's face. “'Cos, you know, they just draw black eyes at that age. But what have they done to the Captain's face?” Staring at the jagged lines, Nick knew they'd tried to draw Renard in his woge. Which wasn't something he could tell Wu.

“Stop critiquing the poor kid's work,” Hank said, leaning over to have a look. “They from Bud's kids?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, shifting to the next picture. A brightly coloured and decorated cake with 'congratulations' scrawled across it.

“Well,” said Hank, “don't forget to show those to the Captain.”

Moving to the last picture, Nick grinned at the bright mass of scribbles.

“Okay,” Wu said, “I've got nothing.”

“That would be because little Mary's only two,” Nick replied.

“And the cake?”

“Most likely Frankie,” Nick replied, shifting back to it, and searching for a name. Yep, there it was. 

“The really creative representations of you and the Captain?” Wu asked.

“That would be Ned.” Smoothing the pictures out, Nick carefully placed them into a folder. A short glance in it showed the other two that the folder was already full of drawings. 

“Well,” said Hank, “I say we call it a day.”

“You go ahead,” Nick replied, “I've got some paperwork to finish up on.”

“All right, don't stay too late.” Nodding, Nick turned his attention to his work, as Hank grabbed his jacket, headed towards the exit.

“Don't forget this evening!” Wu called after him. “Sandy's at 8!”

Hank waved his hand in agreement.

*

A couple of hours later, Nick felt Renard's strong presence come up behind him. 

“You planning on staying here all night?” the Captain asked.

Turning, Nick grinned up at him. “Somehow,” he said, “I don't think my lover would be very happy with that.”

Renard smiled back at him. Passing them, Wu made a gagging sound.

“Which reminds me,” said Nick, quickly closing down his computer before standing and grabbing his jacket. “What do you prefer? Lover? Significant other? Partner?” He scrunched his nose up at the last.

“Definitely not partner,” Renard replied, placing his hand on the small of Nick's back as they headed out of the bullpen. “Not when we're both cops. I'd be sharing that term with Hank.”

Nick laughed. “My thoughts exactly,” he said. “So...?”

Renard humming, pushing the button for the elevator. “Lover works,” he said, “though I confess I prefer the old style.” He glanced over at Nick, wondering if he would know what he meant.

Nick frowned, before remembering something Monroe had said the night before – in the midst of his information-dump on royal politics. “Chosen,” he said.

Renard nodded.

“I like it,” Nick replied. 

They got into Nick's truck, Renard driving. He headed automatically towards his apartment. It somehow felt completely natural to be sitting in the truck with Nick, headed home after a day of work.

“I had some people check over the apartment,” he said, “they were unable to find any other bugs.”

“Good,” Nick replied, frowning as he remembered just how angry he was with the Captain's family.

“Still, I'd appreciate it if you could have a listen again when we get there,” Renard continued.

“Of course,” Nick agreed.

*

Standing in the Captain's apartment, listening intently for any sounds that were out of place, Nick wondered at the ease he felt there when only the evening before he had felt out of place and unsure. Drifting through the apartment, he stretched out with his hearing, but was unable to find anything.

Rejoining Renard in the kitchen he shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.

The Captain sighed, nodding in relief. “Thank you.” Reaching up to one of the cupboards, he pulled out a bowl, placing it on the bench. “You like ravioli?” he asked.

“Does anyone not?” 

*

Watching Renard cook was a new experience for Nick. He watched the way his hands moved. The stretch and flex of muscles in his arms. The fierce concentration. The ease and grace of his movements.

“You're staring,” Renard commented, turning to face him.

Blushing, Nick ducked his eyes away. “Sorry,” he said.

“I wasn't complaining.”

*

Dinner was just as delicious as the smell of it had suggested, and Nick found himself moaning around his first mouthful. 

“Careful,” Renard warned. “If you get too loud, the neighbours may think we're doing something completely different.”

Nick choked, eyes widening. Renard smirked at him. Shaking his head, Nick joined the Captain in his laughter.

*

They cleaned up companionably after dinner, Nick washing and Renard drying and putting away. Before they knew it, it was quarter to eight. 

“We going?” Nick asked, turning to face the Captain.

“We should,” Renard replied. “Or we'll never hear the end of it from Wu.”

Nick grinned. “Wouldn't want that,” he said. He glanced down at his shirt with a frown. He'd managed to spill some of the pasta sauce on it while laughing at something Renard had said.

“Here,” Renard murmured, reaching forward to begin unbuttoning Nick's shirt. His eyes widened and his breath came short. “You can borrow one of mine.”

“I keep a spare in the car,” Nick muttered, leaning back against the bench behind him as his knees suddenly became weak. Renard smiled down at him.

“Which you'll need for work tomorrow,” he said.

Nodding, Nick let the taller man coax his shirt off him. His chest was bare, cool without a layer of cloth over it. He could feel his breath coming harsh and his nipples tightening. It was stupid, he told himself, he'd slept half-naked with Renard the night before, so he shouldn't be so self-conscious. But it was somehow different, having Renard standing over him, Nick's shirt hanging from one hand, fully clothed. His breath drew short.

Swallowing, Renard cleared his throat. “I should get you that shirt,” he said.

The front door banged open. Startled, Renard spun around, his woge rippling beneath the surface. Nick straightened, but not before catching sight of Viktor storming into the apartment.

“I will not be ignored!” he snarled. “I've been given the run-around by your police all day!” Registering Nick's state of undress, and Renard's closeness to him, not to mention Nick's shirt in his hand, Viktor came to a halt, mouth gaping open.

Scowling, Nick folded his arms over his chest. “You are not welcome here,” he said. 

Viktor's eyes narrowed.

“We have taken our leave of you,” Nick continued, “and you dare impose upon us like this?” His eyes darkened, and he stepped forward. A palpable sense of menace flowed out from him. This was Nick the Grimm, and he was not happy.

“Leave, Viktor,” Renard said. “And perhaps we will see you tomorrow.” He glanced at Nick. “But I wouldn't count on it.”

“I will not -” Viktor began.

Striding forward, Nick reached out, grabbing Viktor's shoulder in one hand, he spun him around, using his other hand to drag the royal nuisance's arm up behind his back. Viktor hissed as Nick applied pressure, propelling him before him down the corridor and out through the door.

Giving Viktor a shove, the Grimm didn't wait to see what happened to the other man, simply slamming the door as soon as he was through it. Flipping the lock, Nick glared at the door, before turning back to Renard. A sheepish look came over his face.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, motioning towards the door. “I probably shouldn't have -”

“You very much should have,” Renard replied, stepping close and holding his eyes for a long moment. “I'll get you a shirt,” he said, breaking eye contact as he turned away. For a moment, Nick felt bereft, before shaking his head and reminding himself that it was all a pretence.

*

“And here they are, the men of the hour!” Wu called. Around him, officers, detectives, cleaners, anyone and everyone who worked at the precinct and wasn't currently needed there let out a cheer.

Blushing, Nick ducked his head a little as he and Renard made their way through the crowd at Sandy's towards the tables where the Portland Police had set up. There was a lot of back-slapping as they arrived, followed by drinks being continuously pushed at them and many shouts of congratulations.

Nick almost felt like he was at some kind of weird wedding reception. Around them, music pulsed, people laughed and drank, and there was a lightness that was often missing from this group of people due to the seriousness of their jobs. 

Slipping into the seat beside Nick, Renard placed his arm around his shoulders, drawing him close. Nick leant against him, enjoying the warmth.

“Okay, I have to ask,” Wu said, “is that the Captain's shirt?”

“What?” Glancing down at himself, Nick took in the lilac shirt he was wearing, the sleeves rolled up to keep them from hanging over his hands, and the ends tucked into his jeans. He blushed. Furiously.

“And that answers that,” Wu said, holding up his hands. “Spare me the details, I don't want to know.”

Renard smirked, a wicked glint entering his eyes. “It involved sauce,” he said. 

“Argh!” Wu cried, flinging his hands up towards his ears.

“Pasta sauce,” Nick agreed, wiggling his eyebrows.

*

The music changed, losing it's techno beat for something more traditional. Around them, people began to dance, and a number of glances were shot their way.

Leaning further into the Captain, Nick turned so that his lips brushed against Renard's ear as he spoke. “Do you think they're waiting for us to dance?” he asked.

Turning to face Nick, Renard's lips caught against the younger man's for a moment. Just the slightest brush. “Most likely,” he replied. “You think we should?”

Nick shrugged. “I think we should only do what we feel like doing,” he replied.

Renard grinned. Standing, he drew Nick to his feet beside him. There were a few whistles and catcalls as those around them noticed.

The song changed. A tango.

Laughing, Nick looked up at Renard. “I'm game if you are,” he said.

In response, Sean grabbed his hand, pulling him out onto the dance floor and then spinning Nick into him. His free hand came to rest on Nick's upper back, as Nick's hand mirrored the position on Sean.

What followed was not the polished dancing that many would have expected from the Captain. But nor was it the inelegant stumbling that those not knowing the two may have expected. There were a lot of pointed toes, legs moving together one way then the other, spins, dips and twirls. And laughter. Nick had a grin twitching at his lips before they even began moving. It soon changed into a full-blown smile, which remained until long after the end of the song.

Renard led, and Nick followed him, letting the Captain move him around the dance floor. There was a kind of awareness, a tingling of his Grimm senses, that let him almost predict which way Renard was going to move next, allowing him to move with the taller man. 

So, while it wasn't exactly a traditional tango, it was still recognisable as such, and left those watching with both a sense of grace, but also of mirth. 

Nick particularly enjoyed those times Renard used his strength to lift him into the air. But mostly, he just enjoyed letting loose a little bit, allowing himself to be a little bit silly, and laughing with the Captain as they moved through a series of twirls and spins. 

Coming to a halt at the end of the song, Nick and Sean turned to face their colleagues. There was laughter and clapping, as they took a bow, hands clasped between them. Breathing hard, face beginning to hurt from all his grinning, Nick turned to Sean.

“Thanks,” he said. The warm look in Sean's eyes let him know the sentiment was returned.

*

They left soon after that, holding hands as they weaved their way out of the bar between the patrons. Sinking into the passenger seat of the Captain's car, Nick leant his head back.

“I hate to say it,” he said, “but Wu had a good idea there.”

Renard chuckled. “Just don't tell him, and I'll forgive you,” he replied.

“Admit it,” Nick said, “you had fun.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

Smiling, Nick lapsed into a comfortable silence. He felt warm, happiness still bubbling just under the surface, and nicely lethargic, ready to sleep.

“I had a request for a new transfer into the department today,” Renard said.

“Oh?”

“Mmm. I'm expecting a few more.”

Opening his eyes, Nick turned his head to look at the Captain. “Why?” he asked.

Renard nodded between them. “Because of us,” he said. “The request today came from a fuchsbau.”

“Word of our relationship is enough for them to request a transfer?” Nick asked.

“Apparently,” Sean replied. “They know that we know about them, and that most of the, strange, cases are filtered our way.”

“I knew you were sending them to Hank and me on purpose,” Nick muttered. 

“Of course,” Sean agreed. “Who better?”

He pulled into his car space, cutting the engine.

“Come on,” he said, “we'd best get you to bed.”

Mumbling something in agreement, Nick grinned as he heard Sean walk around the car, opening the door and reaching in to tug Nick out.

“I can stand on my own,” he said.

“Do you want to?”

“Not really.”

They made their way up to Sean's apartment, Nick leaning heavily on his fake lover. Passing the Door Guard, the received a polite nod. Entering the hallway leading to Sean's apartment, the older man came to a halt. Opening his eyes, Nick groaned.

The floor leading up to the door was covered in baskets. Fresh baked food, various jams and preserves and a couple of quilts all spilling out of them.

“What?” Sean asked.

“Eisbiber,” Nick replied. “They've done this before.” Sean glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, but simply moved to make a way for them to get into the apartment. Once through the door, Nick pulled himself away from Sean enough to focus his hearing, seeking anything out of place. He began to wander through the rooms as Sean returned to the hallway to begin bringing in the baskets.

“It sounds fine,” Nick said, rejoining Sean. He yawned, pressing his hand up against his mouth.

“Good,” Sean replied, giving him a fond look as he brought in the last of the baskets before closing and locking the door. “Let's get you to bed.”

He led Nick to the bedroom, where he carefully stripped the younger man down to his boxers. Nick felt like he should feel something as Sean did so. Either embarrassment, self-consciousness, or that strange tension that had pulled at him earlier that evening. But he was too lethargic and content for any of that. It was as though his body had decided it was time, and safe enough, to sleep.

“Safe,” Nick murmured.

“Hmmm?” Sean asked, leaning over him. 

“Safe,” Nick repeated. He pressed back against the pillows behind him, one hand reaching out to grab at Sean. “Sleep.”

Taking hold of Nick's hand, Sean gave it a squeeze. “I will,” he promised. “Just give me a minute.”

Nick made a soft whining sound. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that it was the kind of thing he'd normally be incredibly embarrassed about. But already those thoughts were slipping away.

Moments later, he felt the bed dip as Sean climbed into it. Rolling automatically, Nick reached out for him, hands sliding over smooth skin as he tugged the older man closer, shifting so that he could hear Sean's heartbeat. 

Between one beat and the next, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, at 9,311 words, this chapter is now officially the longest I have ever written. And I even moved one of the things I'd planned for this chapter into chapter three, because there was so much happening!  
> A massive thanks to everyone who has commented and left kudos.


	3. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit from Viktor; a present from Wu; Nick gets to meet Sean's neighbours, and his new official supervisor; talk to the Feds; and have dinner at Bud's. Sean thinks this pretend relationship just may end up killing him.

Warm sunlight streamed in through the windows, brushing over the occupants of the bed and spilling upon the floor. Shifting sleepily, Nick pressed his face against Sean's chest; nose and cheek brushing over hard muscles and smooth skin. He felt warm and comfortable, relaxed and lethargic. The chest beneath his face moved gently as Sean breathed, and he could hear the other man's heartbeat.

Keeping his eyes shut, Nick focused on what else he could feel. Sean's sheets were silky smooth against his skin, obviously with a high thread count and very expensive. But that wasn't what he focused on. His legs, once more, were twined with Sean's, his left hand clasping tightly to Sean's right shoulder, and his right hand resting at the base of Sean's head in his hair. 

Lying there, Nick had a strong urge to simply stay in bed all day. Usually, he was eager to get up and get moving, far too active to lie around for long. But in that moment, he could have happily remained where he was indefinitely.

The ringing of a phone disturbed him. Scrunching his face up in annoyance, Nick let go of Sean's shoulder, hand blindly reaching out, seeking the phone. Finger hitting the edge of a bedside table, he stretched further, bare skin sliding against bare skin as he moved, chests and legs pressed together. 

Hand closing over the phone, Nick dragged it towards himself, barely opening his eyes as he blurrily answered the call. “Burkhardt,” he said.

There was silence on the other end.

Frowning, Nick tried to force his mind to focus better, but the gentle glide of Sean's chest against his as they breathed was incredibly distracting.

“Burkhardt,” he repeated, in case he hadn't been heard the first time.

There was a breath of laughter. “Well, what do you know,” Wu's voice greeted him. Dropping his head back down to Sean's chest, keeping the phone pressed to his ear, Nick closed his eyes. If Wu was ringing he'd have to get up in a moment, so he was going to enjoy what he could while he could.

“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked.

“You're kidding right?” The incredulous tone in Wu's voice pinged something at the back of Nick's mind, but he was too warm and comfortable for it to penetrate much.

“You rang me,” he said, “I assume that means we've got a body?”

“I rang the Captain,” Wu replied, mirth clear in his voice, yet covered by a dryness that suggested Nick was stupid for thinking otherwise.

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Nick twisted so that he could see it. It was Sean's. Groaning, he lifted it back up.

“Right,” he said. “Just a moment.”

“Woah, no need for me to hear how you wake each other in the morning,” Wu assured him. “Just let him know the Feds are here. They seem pretty determined to talk to him.”

Glancing over at the clock, Nick scowled. “It's 7:30 in the morning,” he said.

“I know,” Wu replied. “Today's going to be fun.”

Rolling his eyes, Nick ended the call, tossing the phone down onto the bed beside them. He glanced down at Sean. The older man had his eyes closed, breath moving in and out evenly, an open, relaxed expression on his face.

“How much did you hear?” Nick asked.

A smile crossed Sean's lips. “Enough,” he said. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Nick. 

Letting his forehead thump down onto Sean's chest, Nick groaned once more. “It's going to be all over the station before we get there,” he said.

“It's not like they didn't already know we're sleeping together,” Sean reminded him. “And it will strengthen our position against my family.”

“Why do you think the Feds want to talk to you?” Nick asked, deliberately moving away from the topics of Sean's family and the fake nature of their relationship.

“Most likely because of said family,” Sean replied. “They will have realised that the victim is connected to my family and want to know about my relationship with them.”

Nick made a face, lips brushing against Sean's skin as he did so. A shiver washed over the skin beneath him and Nick paused. Remembering the morning before, he grinned wickedly, before deliberately dragging his lips over Sean's skin once more.

“We have work,” Sean said, a note in his voice that Nick hadn't heard before.

Humming in the back of his throat, he moved up Sean's chest, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Reaching Sean's neck, he licked a stripe up along his jugular, pressed a kiss to his chin, then claimed his lips.

Pressing against Sean, Nick nipped lightly at his lips, tongue darting quickly after to sooth, then pressing forward to explore the older man's mouth. Sean gasped.

“Nick,” he managed to get out, dragging his mouth away. Dropping a kiss onto his cheek, Nick grinned, sitting up.

“Scent,” was all he said, slipping out of the bed and heading for the bathroom.

Watching him leave, Sean lay in the bed, mind whirling.

*

Showered, towel wrapped around his waist, Nick wiped his hand across the bathroom mirror, clearing away the steam and fog. He blinked at his face, wondering what it was that others saw in him that made it so easy to assume he and the Captain had been secretly dating for a while.

Behind him, the door opened, Renard slipping inside. He placed a bundle of clothes on the side of the sink, glancing at Nick as he did so. “Top one's for you,” he said. 

Looking at the bundle, Nick saw that the topmost piece of clothing was another lilac shirt. “Thanks,” he said. Leaning down, he rummaged in the sink drawers for a spare toothbrush.

“Bottom drawer,” Renard said, turning the shower on. Humming in thanks, Nick grabbed the toothbrush, beginning to clean his teeth. Hearing the shower door close, he glanced in the mirror to see Sean behind him, his outline visible – though not clearly – through the frosted glass. 

Teeth cleaned, Nick dropped the toothbrush into the cup next to Sean's, before grabbing the shirt from the top of the pile. Slipping it on, it was immediately obvious that the shirt was Sean's. The sleeves hung down over his hands, and the tails of the shirt reached to his mid-thigh.

Tossing his towel into the hamper, Nick wandered out of the bathroom, but not before his eyes flicked towards Renard once more. Shaking his head, and reminding himself that it was no big deal, and all part of the pretence, Nick made his way into the kitchen, where he turned on the coffee maker.

Sean reappeared minutes later. Pausing in the entrance to the kitchen, he stared at the sight before him. His mouth and throat went dry, and he felt his heart-rate increase. Nick, his grimm, was dressed in just one of his lilac shirts, barely long enough to make it 'decent'. 

“Coffee?” Nick asked with a smile, offering him a cup. Accepting it, Sean simply held it in his hands, still staring at the grimm. “What?” Nick asked, a bemused smile crossing his face.

Shaking himself, Sean straightened. “I need to get to the station,” he said, “deal with the Feds.”

Nick hummed in agreement. “What will you tell them?”

“The truth. That I haven't seen or spoken to my family, aside from my mother, in years. For some reason they wanted to meet with me – no doubt likely due to Eric's death. I never met the victim, nor have they spoken about him to me.”

“Do you think they'll want to talk to me?”

“It's possible.” Placing the coffee on the counter, Sean stepped closer to Nick, breathing in his scent. He could feel the warmth of the other man, and wanted to simply soak in it.

Turning to face him, instead of stepping back and away, Nick moved slightly forward, a gleam in his eyes that suggested he would rise to whatever challenge Renard set. Sean smirked. 

“Are you coming to the station with me?” he asked.

Nick shrugged. “May as well,” he replied, “though I can't go like this.” He indicated himself.

“Oh, I don't know,” Sean replied. “I think it might get the message across amply.”

Chuckling, Nick leaned further into Sean's space. “Don't think I didn't notice this isn't exactly a fresh shirt,” he said, turning his head to sniff at it, drawing the smell of Sean that lingered on it deeply into his lungs.

“Well,” Sean replied. “As you said earlier – scent.”

There was a knock on the door. Raising his eyebrows in question, Nick stepped back. Sean shook his head. He didn't know who was at the door. Grabbing his gun, Sean headed down the hallway, cracking the door open. 

“Sorry to disturb you,” came a male voice. Recognising the voice, Sean opened the door further. Joey was a fairly new door guard, younger than the others, and often nervous when faced with new situations. As the door opened, Joey's eyes flickered over Sean's shoulder for a moment, before being visibly dragged back to look him in the face.

Resisting the urge to shift, thus blocking the view of Nick, wearing only his shirt, from Joey, Sean waited.

“There's a Prince Viktor here to see you,” Joey continued, eyes studiously staying on Sean's face. “He's rather insistent.” He paused. “I know I should have called,” he said, ducking his head. “But I wanted to get away from him.”

Sean frowned. “Did he say what he wants?”

Joey shook his head. “No,” he said. “He was just really insistent that I let him up to see you. I told him that it was policy to call ahead and let you know of any visitors, but he got rather angry and started spouting off all this stuff about being a Prince and how I was disrespecting him and going to cause an international incident.”

Sean sighed. “Hardly,” he replied. “Unfortunately, yes, he is a Prince. He's also my cousin.”

Joey gaped at him. “Your cousin is a Prince?!” he asked.

Nick grinned, having walked up behind Renard to listen to the conversation. “He's only a Prince because Sean's brother, the original Crown Prince, was recently killed,” he said.

Joey's eyes went impossibly wider, even as Sean shot Nick a disgruntled look. “Your brother is a Prince?!” he asked.

“Was a Prince,” Nick corrected. “So really, don't worry about Viktor being pissy.” Sean choked at Nick's choice of wording. Nick just grinned. 

“Please inform Viktor that he is currently not welcome here,” Sean said, “and inform him that I will contact him when I am willing to see him again.”

Joey swallowed, skin paling. 

“Here,” said Nick, nudging Sean gently out of the way as he stepped forward. “I'll tell him.”

Immediately, Sean's hand clamped down on his upper arm, halting his movement. “Like that?” he asked, his even, calm tone a stark contrast to the tension in his hand.

Nick glanced down at himself, then shrugged, glancing back up. “Why not?” he asked. “Send a statement. What was it you said? Get the message across amply?”

Sean's hand tightened. “Viktor does not need to see you like this,” he said, a slight growl slipping into his voice.

Nick raised his eyebrows at the sound, but took a step back. “Then I'll put some pants on first,” he said. Sean's hand relaxed and he nodded.

Heavy footfalls alerted them that that might not be happening.

Turning back, Nick saw Viktor, storming up the hallway, and making no attempt to hide his annoyance. 

“Sean!” he snapped. “What is the meaning of this? Having me waiting in the foyer like some common peasant? I am not Eric, nor am I someone you want to be trifling with!”

Slipping past Sean, who had gone stiff once more, Nick stepped out of the apartment. Doors to either side of the hallway opened, Sean's few neighbours peering out at the noise. 

“Get out,” Nick said. 

Coming to an abrupt halt, gaping at Nick's state of dress – or rather, lack thereof, Viktor moved his mouth soundlessly for a moment.

“I will not be spoken to in such a manner -” he began. His eyes swept over Nick, head to foot, darkening as they did so.

“Then you had best leave,” Nick replied evenly, taking a step forward. Rather than feeling uncomfortable under Viktor's gaze, he found himself straightening, shoulders back, head high. Let Viktor look and see the evidence of what Sean had that he didn't – and never would. Nick's eyes narrowed, and he felt that heightened awareness that he always associated with his grimm abilities. Viktor was a threat, and he was willing to remove him.

“I do not know what foolishness -” Viktor tried once more.

“You have broken honour,” Nick replied, voice still calm and steady, but laced with steel that said he wasn't going to back down. 

Viktor froze. He scowled.

“Leave,” Nick repeated. He waited a moment, before tilting his head to the side. “Or do I need to remove you once more?” Viktor's scowl deepened. 

“You have no idea who you are dealing with!” he hissed. 

“I know enough,” Nick replied. He held his hand up, easily catching the gun Sean tossed his way. Viktor's eyes narrowed, watching as Nick didn't even turn his head, seemingly simply knowing what the bastard prince was going to do.

Clicking the safety off, Nick pointed the gun straight at Viktor. “You are currently threatening a police detective and a police captain,” he said. “Unless you would like to spend the rest of the day in lock-up, I suggest you vacate the premises.”

Glaring at Nick, Viktor waited a moment longer before spinning on his heel and stalking down the hallway. “This isn't over!” he tossed over his shoulder.

Once Viktor had disappeared from sight, Joey let out a sigh of relief, sagging against the wall. “Thank you!” he told Nick. Nick gave him a wry smile.

“I could kiss you right now,” Sean informed him, eyes burning with something Nick was hesitant to name. He stepped closer to the grimm, reaching out to place one hand on his hip, stroking the bone through the thin material of his shirt. Sean's other hand came to rest on Nick's shoulder, forefinger brushing against his neck. 

Looking up at him, Nick smiled. “Well,” he said, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He was hyper aware of everyone else standing in the hallway with them. Leaning down, Sean pressed his lips against Nick's, forcing them open so that he could invade Nick's mouth with his tongue. Opening easily to him, Nick groaned, hands automatically coming up to grasp at Sean's shoulders. 

Soft clapping drew their attention and Nick turned, taking a large step back as he did so, to see Sean's neighbours – old Mrs Wilheim, and Mr and Mrs White, smiling at them.

Mrs Wilheim smirked, crinkling the laugh lines around her eyes. “Nicely done,” she purred, letting her eyes sweep over Nick, “dealing with that dreadful man, and all while looking good enough to eat.”

Nick choked, blushing lightly. 

“Mrs Wilheim,” Sean said with a sigh.

“Oh tush,” the old lady replied. “I hardly get to see any good-looking young men at my age – other than you, of course. Certainly no young men dressed only in a shirt.” She smirked at them. “Let an old woman enjoy her fun. Particularly when it looks like that.” She winked at Nick.

Shaking his head, hardly believing what his life had turned into recently, Nick glanced back at Sean. The other man didn't appear to know whether he wanted to haul Nick back into the apartment where he couldn't be seen by anyone else until he was wearing more clothing, or preen at the implied compliments to himself.

“It's so good to see that Sean has someone,” Mrs Wilheim continued. “I was beginning to despair for him, truly I was. And then you come along,” she waved one hand at Nick. “Now – well, now I have much more pleasant thoughts to occupy my mind,” she said with a significant look.

Blush deepening, Nick took a step back towards Renard, even as the other man's arm snaked out, wrapping firmly around his waist and drawing him towards him. 

Soft laughter drew Nick's attention to Mrs White. “You have to admit she has a point,” she said, nodding at Mrs Wilheim. “You have done very well for yourself, Captain.”

“Janice!” her husband hissed. Swiping at his chest, she hushed him.

“Relax Mark,” she replied. “I'm only looking. We agreed I could do that.”

“I didn't,” Sean growled, trying to push Nick behind him. Rolling his eyes, Nick let himself be pushed back towards the apartment.

“Well,” said Mrs Wilheim, “we'd best let you get back to what you were doing before you were so rudely interrupted.” She waggled her eyebrows, making it clear exactly what she thought they had been doing.

“Mmmm.” Janice's eyes glazed over at the thought. Rolling his eyes, Mark pushed her back into their apartment. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Nick,” he called out. “It is Nick, right?”

“Yeah,” Nick said with a slight frown. Wondering why Sean's neighbour was asking, and how he knew his name.

Mark grinned. “I thought so,” he said. “I always knew if Sean ever decided to enter into a relationship it would be with you.”

Giving a brief smile – Sean was being rather insistent at pushing him back into the apartment, all while making it look like he wasn't being so – Nick nodded.

“It was great to meet you, too,” he said. He glanced over at Mrs Wilheim. “And you,” he added.

She grinned at him. “If ever he doesn't treat you right, or you just want a bit of a break,” she said, “you know where I live. I'd be happy to take you out for dinner. Lunch. Breakfast. Whatever.”

Laughing, Nick let himself be pushed back into the apartment.

Shutting the door behind them, Sean leant back against it, letting out a sigh. “I could strangle Viktor,” he said.

“You're not the only one,” Nick replied, “although I hear my preferred method's meant to be chopping off heads.”

Smiling, Sean pushed himself off the door. “I really should get going,” he said. They were standing so close they were sharing each other's breath. It felt incredibly intimate, even as they weren't touching. 

“You should,” Nick agreed, though he made no move to step away. “I should come with you,” he added, suddenly not wanting to be away from Renard. 

Humming in agreement, Sean forced his eyes away from Nick's. “You said you have a spare shirt in the truck?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, running his hand through his hair. “Just in case.”

“Good. I'll grab it for you.”

Spinning on his heel, Sean exited the apartment, leaving Nick staring bemusedly after him.

*

By the time Sean returned, Nick had dressed in his jeans, leaving Sean's shirt on, but open. Taking his own shirt with a grin of thanks, Nick quickly stripped off Sean's shirt, before pulling his on. Tossing the discarded shirt over a chair, he turned to Sean.

“Ready,” he said. 

*

Walking into the station, Nick was aware of the eyes that followed him and Renard as they moved towards their division. A careful glance around, however, showed him that the goodwill of the night before was still in play – the gazes locked on them were all amused, smirking, happy, or tolerant. 

Stepping into the elevator, he pushed the button for their floor, waiting for the doors to close. Despite the fact that he had ridden the elevator with Renard many times before, there was something about the fact that everyone thought they were dating that made the space seem incredibly small.

Shifting on his feet, Nick stared anywhere but at the Captain.

“Relax,” Renard said, giving him a curious glance. “Everything we're doing is completely legal, and approved. There has been no negative feedback at all, and everyone appears to be rather happy for us.” Reaching out, he placed his hand on Nick's shoulder, halting the detective's fidgeting. “The only thing that may cause alarm is if you walk out there looking like you're panicked.”

Drawing a deep breath, then blowing it out, Nick nodded. He couldn't say exactly why he was wound so tight. Everything had seemed simple and as easy as breathing while at Renard's apartment. So why was he suddenly so anxious? He didn't think he was worried about what the others at the precinct thought – at least, not in any great way. He cared enough to know if they disapproved, but that disapproval would not make any difference to him.

The elevator came to a halt, doors opening. Renard stepped forward, his hand sliding off Nick's shoulder in a gentle caress as he did so – and suddenly Nick had a possible answer for his nerves.

He wasn't worried about what other's thought. He wasn't really worried at all. He was simply anxious for those touches that were part of the whole charade. He wanted them to happen.

Mulling that thought over, he headed to his desk, ready to get through some more of his backlogged paperwork.

*

A few minutes after Nick sat down, his attention was drawn by the sound of someone calling his name.

“Burkhardt,” Wu told him, grinning ear-to-ear, “I have something for you.”

Leaning forward, ready for another case, or some paperwork or other that needed to be filled in, Nick was surprised when Wu handed him a small square box. He frowned at him.

Stilling grinning, Wu placed his hands on his hips, eyes watching Nick like a hawk.

Somewhat wary, Nick opened the lid of the box, to see that it held a coffee mug. Pulling it out, he gaped in surprise. 

“Brilliant, right?” Wu asked. “You can thank me any time.”

“Did you raid a craft store or something?” Nick asked. The mug was a light lilac colour (he absently noted that Wu had managed to get one almost the exact same shade as the Captain's shirts), and had the word Princess scrawled in fancy, cursive writing across the side. The writing was a deep purple, highlighted with silver glitter, and plastic fake jewels that were stuck onto the side of the mug around it. 

“Actually,” Wu replied, “they sell them like that. I know,” he added, at Nick's incredulous look. “Apparently they're quite popular with the female, under 10 set.”

Shaking his head, Nick placed the mug down on his desk. “And you thought to get me one?” he asked.

“Not just you,” Wu replied. He taped another box he was holding. “I also found one for our illustrious Captain. To show my support and all.”

“Your support?” Nick's tone suggested that he wasn't entirely sure it was support that Wu was showing.

“Of course,” the sergeant replied. “Considering how long it took you two to get your act together, I figure we'll all be dead before you decide to get married. In which case, it only seemed appropriate that I get you a little something now, to celebrate your official relationship.”

“What,” asked Hank, approaching them and staring at the glittery mug sitting on Nick's desk, “is that?”

“Present,” Nick replied, spinning it around to show him the elaborate writing.

Hank's eyebrows rose. His gaze dropped to the other box in Wu's hand. “Tell me that one's for the Captain?” he asked.

“Of course,” Wu replied, “we don't want him to feel left out.”

Grinning, Hank slapped Nick on the back as he moved past him to take his seat. “Well,” he said, “now you have your own special mug, just for the station. Have you thanked Sergeant Wu yet?”

“Thank you, Wu,” Nick responded, turning to give Wu a rather bright and fake smile. 

“No problem,” Wu replied. “I mean, seriously, no problem. Happy to provide you with such gifts any time.”

“I think it suits you,” Hank continued. “Kinda brings out your eyes, you know?”

Rolling his eyes, Nick reached forward, grabbing a marker from his pen cup. “It just needs one slight adjustment,” he said. Pulling the mug towards himself, he scrawled something over it in the marker, before turning it so that they could see.

Next to Princess, scrawled in Nick's handwriting in black marker were the words  
with a  
gun

Laughing, Wu waved as he headed off, though Nick noticed he didn't approach the Captain's office. No doubt as Renard was still cloistered in there with the Feds.

*

“Detective Burkhardt?”

Glancing up, Nick straightened in his seat, before pushing himself to his feet. “Captain Benson,” he said, holding his hand out for the other man to shake. Benson's grip was firm, without being overbearing. He smiled.

“I thought it might be a good idea for us to have a chat,” he said. “Considering you're now officially under my purview and all.”

“Of course,” Nick agreed. “Did you want to do it here, or -”

“I was thinking a walk would be nice,” Benson said, glancing towards the bullpen windows, through which sunlight streamed.

Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, Nick nodded. “After you,” he said.

They walked down and out of the precinct, Nick amused to note that they almost seemed to be getting more attention than he and Renard had done that morning. Turning left at the entrance to the station, they strolled down the street.

Benson was silent for the first few minutes, seemingly content to just walk with the detective. Turning into a park, he paused once they were a few dozen feet inside. 

Sensing that Benson was now ready to talk, Nick spoke first.

“Thank you,” he said. “For agreeing to this. I really appreciate what you're doing for me, Captain.”

Benson gave him a small smile. “It's not so great a thing,” he said. “But before we continue, there's something you should know.” And he woged.

His light brown hair and thick eyebrows melded into soft feathers, nose pushing out into a beak. His eyes shone golden, blinking at Nick, before his face returned to normal. A steinadler.

Watching Benson, Nick nodded. “Okay,” he said.

Benson studied him, eyes sharp, as though trying to see right through his head and into his thoughts. “This won't be a problem for you?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Nick replied. He suppressed the urge to frown in frustration at, once again, being judged based on his ancestors. 

“You'll be able to follow my orders?” Benson asked.

“I have been working under Captain Renard,” Nick replied, smiling wryly.

“I am not Captain Renard,” Benson replied. “I have no royal blood in my veins.”

“I didn't think you did,” Nick said. “And the Captain's royal blood has nothing to do with my loyalty.” He gazed steadily at the other man. “I worked for Captain Renard when I didn't know what he was,” he said, then scoffed, “when I didn't even know what I was. I worked for him once I found out that he was wesen. And I've continued to work for him, while finding out he's royal. I don't believe that someone's genetics changes who they are.”

Benson grinned. “Everyone says you're different,” he said, “and the fact that you are so close to the Prince shows it.” He nodded. “I think we'll get along just fine.” He began to walk once more.

Falling into step with Benson, Nick waited for him to speak.

“Nothing will really change,” Benson said, “as I'm sure Captain Renard has informed you. You will continue to work as part of, and out of, the robbery and homicide division, and your day-to-day activities will be directed by Captain Renard. In order to remove you from being officially his subordinate, you had to be placed under another Captain – which is me. However, as your Captain, my orders for you are to continue working as you have been.

“Any official disciplinary actions will need to involve me, but as you've managed to last this long without receiving any, I doubt I'll be needed for such. As your official Captain, I'll have access to all your files, yearly reviews and so on.” Pausing, Benson turned them around, beginning to head back towards the precinct.

“The one change you may notice is that, as you are officially under my command, that gives me leeway to send some cases your way – should it be deemed that you would be the best detective to handle them.” It went unsaid, but clearly understood, that he was talking about cases involving wesen. “Did you have any questions?”

Nick shook his head. “No,” he said. “It all sounds good.”

Benson nodded. His face turned hard and serious, and he caught Nick's eyes with his own. “Captain Renard, our Prince, is greatly appreciated, esteemed and valued,” he said. “You would be wise to do nothing to harm him.”

Swallowing, and nodding, Nick watched Benson stride swiftly up the precinct steps. He slowly followed, feeling somewhat bemused, and strangely glad, that he'd just been warned to treat his fake boyfriend right.

*

Returning to the bullpen, Nick saw that the Feds had left Renard's office, and his door was open. A deep purple mug sitting on his desk suggested that Wu had made a visit to the Captain to deposit his gift there as well.

“Nick,” Renard called.

Changing direction so that he was headed towards the Captain's office, Nick stepped inside. “Captain,” he said.

Sean smiled at him. “I saw you leave with Captain Benson earlier,” he said. “How did it go?”

Leaning back against the side table – as he often did when in the Captain's office – Nick gave a slight shrug. “Fine,” he said. “I've been ordered to continue working as I have been.” He shot Sean a grin. “Oh, and I heard there may have been an ulterior motive to placing me under Benson.”

Sean raised an eyebrow, but remained still. There was a tension to him that Nick puzzled over, wondering that his words could cause it.

“I admit that there was some consideration given to the benefits we might gain through having you attached to two departments,” Sean replied. He paused, as though thinking, before continuing. “I hope this hasn't upset you too much?” he asked.

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course there was another motive,” he said. “You hardly ever do anything without more than one reason to do so – and even then I think you probably have more than one reason but I just haven't figured it out yet.”

“I apologise for using you in such a way,” Sean continued. “If you wish to end our -”

“Woah!” Nick said, holding his hands up to halt Renard. “I'm not upset,” he said, “and you have no need to apologise. Like I said – having more than one motive, that's just who you are. If you didn't, I might start getting worried.” He smiled softly. “I tend to like who you are. Besides,” he added, “I trust you. If you think it's important and worth using this situation to gain us benefits in other areas – then I trust you with that. I figure you know me well enough by now to know what I'd really want to know about.”

Breathing out a sigh – Nick had a strange feeling it was a sigh of relief and that Renard had been far more concerned than he had wanted to let on – Sean leant back in his chair.

“Thank you,” he said. 

*

“Sorry to interrupt,” Wu said, poking his head through the doorway, “but I've got King Frederick here again.” He frowned, looking at Renard. “He said to tell you he has come to offer his apologies.”

Renard's eyebrows rose. “Send him in,” he said, before glancing at Nick. “You should stay for this,” he added.

Nodding, Nick settled himself comfortably where he was, watching the doorway. Within moments, Wu was showing Frederick in. The older man walked inside, appearing both regal and yet somehow apologetic.

“I have come to apologise,” he said formally.

Placing his hands on the desk in front of him, Renard simply waited.

“My nephew insulted you,” Frederick continued. “He has been spoken to, and agreed to improve his manners in future. As no injury was done, I ask that you see fit to forget his ill words that we may move forward and re-establish a relationship of trust and mutual benefit between us.”

“When?” Nick asked.

Frederick blinked, turning to him. “When?” he repeated.

Nick nodded. “When did Viktor agree to improve his manners? Was it before or after he twice tried to force his presence upon us?” Nick's voice was even, calm, but his gaze was cold.

Frederick frowned.

“Yesterday evening,” Sean said, “and this morning. Both times he attempted to force his presence upon us in our apartment. I'm sure you can understand our hesitance.” He smiled coldly.

“His behaviour has not been befitting one of his station,” Frederick said. “I ask your forgiveness, and that some lenience be shown due to his sudden change in position and the sorrow we all bear for Eric's passing.”

Nick glanced over at Renard. It hadn't escaped his notice that Frederick had neatly side-stepped the question of just when Viktor had agreed to behave. He had a feeling it had been before the royal pain had once more made a nuisance of himself, thus casting his ability to behave into question.

Sean met his gaze, before tilting his head slightly to the side, indicating that Nick should speak. As he had been the one to ask that they take their leave, Sean thought it appropriate that Nick be the one to say when Frederick and Viktor were forgiven.

“There will be no repeat of our previous encounters?” Nick asked.

“There will not,” Frederick said.

Nick nodded. “Then we will open communication with you once more,” he said. Frederick smiled. “But,” Nick added, holding up his hand. “This will happen no earlier than tomorrow. And will be contingent upon Viktor not making another attempt to harass us.”

Frederick dipped his head in a nod. “Then I shall see you tomorrow,” he said. Turning, he left the office.

“Well done,” Sean murmured, smiling at Nick. “Perhaps we will be able to have a quiet evening.”

Nick laughed. “Somehow,” he said, “I doubt that.”

Returning his smile, Sean waved him from the office.

*

Returning to his desk, Nick had just pulled out some more paperwork to complete, when his name was called once more.

“Detective Burkhardt.”

“Well, look who's popular today,” Hank told him with a smirk.

Turning, Nick saw that the two Federal Agents, Mackey and Thicke, were standing nearby. 

“We were hoping we could ask you a few questions,” Agent Mackey said.

“Sure,” Nick agreed. “Grab a seat.”

The Agents exchanged a glance.

“Not here,” Thicke said. 

Frowning, Nick looked between them. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

“That's what we're trying to determine,” Agent Mackey said. “We would appreciate your cooperation.”

“You can use my office,” Renard said, walking over to them. “I have head to City Hall, anyway.” Giving a nod, he left the room.

“Right,” said Nick, when the Agents simply continued to stare at him. Pushing himself to his feet, he led the way into the Captain's office, taking one of the seats arrayed before the Captain's desk.

Closing the door, Thicke then moved to turn the blinds, cutting them off from the room outside.

“Does the Captain often make his office available for your use?” Mackey asked, taking the seat opposite Nick, while Thicke leant against the side table near where Nick usually stood. 

“Captain Renard makes his office available to anyone who needs it,” Nick replied. “Most often visiting Agents from other departments, such as yourselves.”

“So you deny this provision is specifically for you?”

Glancing between the agents, Nick frowned. “If you have something to ask,” he said, “why don't you just ask it?”

Mackey leant forward. “What is your releationship with Captain Renard?”

“He's my chosen,” Nick said, “my lover.”

The agents shared a glance. “So you admit to being in a romantic relationship with your supervising officer?” Thicke asked.

Nick shook his head. “No,” he said.

Thicke frowned. “You just said he was your lover. So what is it? Are you lovers or not?”

“I said Captain Renard is my lover,” Nick replied. “My supervising officer is Captain Benson, over in vice.”

That gave the agents pause for a moment. “Renard isn't your supervising officer?” Mackey asked.

“Not any more,” Nick explained. “He arranged it so that I could be transferred to Captain Benson's direct chain of command, while still continuing my work here. That way I wouldn't be under his official supervision and a relationship between us would all be above board.”

“And your relationship didn't start until after he'd done this?”

“I never even kissed him,” Nick said, “until the day I was transferred.”

“And when was that?”

“Two days ago.” Once more, both agents paused, looking at him.

“Two days ago,” Thicke said. “The same day His Royal Highness, King Frederick, and Crown Prince Viktor, arrived in Portland.”

Nick nodded. The agents waited, but he said nothing else.

“So you changed your official supervisor, all so that you could date your Captain?” Mackey asked. “Isn't that a big risk to take? Surely you'd want some idea first of whether you'd actually get along with him in a relationship? Wouldn't that tempt you to try it out first?”

“I don't know how it is for everyone else,” Nick said, “but with Sean, I just knew.”

“You knew.”

“Yes. I knew he was, he is, 'the one'.” He was tempted to lift his hands in order to make quotation marks, but refrained. “I suppose you could say that I did become closer to him over the past couple of years,” he continued, “but neither of us did anything that could be perceived as against the rules of the Portland PD or the code of conduct. Yes, I spent more time with him. Yes, I got to know him better. As a friend. I suppose that's a bit like dating in that when you date you want to get to know the other person. But there was nothing romantic in our relationship. We didn't take that step until it had been approved. By then, I knew Sean well enough that I knew it was a step I wanted to take.”

“When were you first attracted to him?”

Nick laughed. “Honestly?” he said. “The first time I saw him. You can ask Hank – Detective Griffin – he was there. I wasn't aware that Sean was the Captain, so made a comment on his looks.”

“And that never caused a problem?”

Nick shrugged. “Hank soon let me know who he was, so I kept my mouth shut after that, and moved him firmly into the 'work boss' part of my mind, instead of the 'attractive guy' part. But I'm not sure how any of this would help you?”

“We're just trying to get a better feel for Captain Renard,” Thicke said. “You have to admit that it's suspicious – one of the men who arrived in Portland with his father and cousin being killed the night after he left a dinner with them part-way through.” The agents shared a glance. “A dinner you were at?”

“Yes,” Nick said. “I was there. We left because Viktor was incredibly insulting. Neither of us saw or met the victim until the following morning, when I was called out to the crime scene and Sean dropped me off on his way into the precinct.”

“Dropped you off?”

Nick gave a bland smile. “We'd taken my truck back to my place,” he said. “Being new at the whole dating thing, we're still working out the kinks around things like that.”

“I'm sure,” Mackey agreed.

“What is your opinion of Captain Renard's relationship with his family?” Thicke asked.

“Not great,” Nick replied. “Until they arrived two days ago, I don't believe Sean had seen any of his family since he left Europe as an early teen. As the, literal, bastard child of the King, there were those who weren't happy with his existence. It didn't exactly make for great family relationships.”

“With Crown Prince Eric dead, that makes way for Renard to step in,” Thicke suggested.

Nick snorted. “He's never given any indication that he has any plans or ambitions whatsoever in that direction. I think that, given the choice, he'd much rather ignore his father's side of the family completely. Any time he has spoken of any goals, they've all been around making Portland safer.”

“So you don't think Captain Renard could have been involved in the death a man identified as one of his cousin's bodyguards?” Mackey asked.

“No.” Shaking his head, Nick leant forward. “If that's your line of investigation, you're going to waste time and come up empty. But, just to be clear, Sean couldn't have killed the vic, as he was with me all night.”

“You're sure of that?” Thicke asked.

Giving a small smile, Nick gave Thicke an incredulous look. “I don't mean that we were in the same house,” he said, “I'm saying he was with me. In the same bed. So yes, I would have noticed if he'd left.”

The agents shared a glance. Nick had the impression that he'd convinced Mackey long ago, but for some reason Thicke wasn't entirely ready to close off that line of investigation.

“Look,” said Nick, “there'd be no point in killing one of Viktor's bodyguards, anyway. That's not going to help Sean get a throne that he doesn't even want. Nor would killing Viktor, if that's where you're thinking of going next. His father's side of the family have a number of other cousins and relatives who would all be eager to take Viktor's place, and, as a bastard, they'd never accept Sean as Crown Prince.

“If you want my opinion, Viktor's guard was just as or even moreso of an ass as Viktor is.” Mackey's eyebrows rose at that, and he appeared to be holding back a smile. “Our ME identified the wounds on the vic's arms as most likely caused by someone struggling in self defense,” Nick continued. “If it was still my investigation, I'd be looking into that. I think the vic went after someone – someone who was willing and obviously able to fight back.”

“Thank you for your opinion,” Thicke said, frowning. But Mackey looked thoughtful.

“Why don't you check in with the ME?” Mackey suggested. Keeping his frown, Thicke pushed himself to his feet, heading towards the door. 

“Make sure you're available,” he told Nick, making the detective raise his eyebrows. Once Thicke had left, Mackey leant forward in his seat. 

“It's an interesting relationship you have with the Captain,” he said. Nick narrowed his eyes, watching him. He'd sensed something about Mackey ever since first meeting him, but had refrained from saying anything or looking into it for the same reason he had given Captain Benson – he didn't think a person's genetics (even wesen ones) should determine who they are. With Mackey's questions, however, he wondered whether he should look into it.

Leaning back in his chair, Nick let his eyes narrow. 

“It has a lot of people talking,” Mackey continued. “And it's no secret in the wesen community that Prince Sean was not happy when his half-brother tried to kidnap you a few months ago.” Nick raised his eyebrows, he hadn't been aware that was common knowledge. “It's only whispered about,” Mackey said, “and no-one would say anything to anyone else, and no-one seems entirely sure of the truth, but they all agree that the Prince went after you.”

He fell silent, but Nick waited, refusing to speak. He knew how this game was played.

Mackey grinned. “All right,” he said, “we won't talk about that. You had nothing to do with the vic?”

“No,” Nick replied. “Neither as a cop, or as a grimm.”

Nodding, Mackey leant back in his chair. “Fair enough,” he said. “Those scratches weren't made by a human. You have any theories on that?”

“None I've had a chance to follow up on,” Nick replied. “Other than what I already said and what we gave you – I think the vic went to a club, picked up someone, they went for a walk, then things went sour. Whoever it was fought back – managed to get away from him, and quite possibly was the one to hit him – in self defense. Scared, they ran. And we got left with a body to follow up on.

“To find out more, you're going to have to visit the club, and try to find out who he left with.”

“You haven't heard anything from the community?”

“You mean the wesen community?” Nick asked, “why would they say anything to me?”

“Come now, detective,” Mackey replied, “you've allied yourself with Prince Sean. That news has spread fast and far.” He paused. “They may approach you,” he said, “if they haven't already. If our vic attacked another wesen, they may seek you out for justice or protection. It'll be hard to explain in a court of law how a defenseless victim could suddenly kill in self-defense with such strength.”

“Adrenalin,” Nick replied, “but I'll keep what you said in mind.”

“If you need help with anything,” Mackey gave a shrug, “while in Portland,” he said, “I follow Prince Sean's lead.”

Nick studied him for a moment, knowing from the way Mackey began to fidget that his eyes were doing their 'grimm thing'. It was a trick he had recently picked up, that allowed him to use them on wesen even when they weren't woged. 

Fidgeting, Mackey shuddered, face woging for a moment. 

“Thank you,” Nick said.

“For?”

“For being the first klaustreich I've met I didn't want to punch in the face.”

“Not cut the head off of?” Mackey asked.

“I've actually never cut someone's head off,” Nick replied.

Mackey's eyebrows rose. “Really?” he asked. “What about those two reapers?”

“Actually,” Nick said, “the first one was an accident. Sort of. He swung at me, I ducked, his fellow was behind me and he took his head off.” Mackey grimaced. 

“And the second?”

“Was dead before his head was cut off.”

Mackey nodded. “And you don't feel the urge to punch me?” he asked.

“Nah,” Nick shook his head. “The other two, however, were abusive assholes.” He shook his head. “As cops, we're warned about stereotyping people, the danger that comes when we find a few people with something in common all committing a similar crime. If that happens, they usually organise for us to meet someone with that same thing in common who isn't a criminal. To let us see them as people. As a grimm, I haven't exactly been able to go out there and just ask to meet a nice klaustreich 'cos the first two I met both abused their wives. So, it's nice to meet one I don't immediately want to punch.”

Mackey gave a smile. “Glad I could help,” he said. “And you may find, now, that you could actually go and ask.”

Thinking back to the reactions of those wesen he'd met since his relationship with Renard became known, Nick figured Mackey may just be right.

Returning, Thicke gave Nick a look. “The ME has confirmed the scratch marks were defensive. The vic also has some skin under his fingernails – as though he was trying to hold someone who was struggling,” he said.

“Thank you, Detective Burkhardt,” Mackey said. “If we need anything else from you, we'll let you know.”

Nodding, Nick left the room.

“And, he reappears,” Wu declared, smiling at Nick. Then he frowned. “They weren't giving you a hard time, were they?” he asked.

“It wasn't that bad,” Nick replied. “But I sure could go for lunch right now.”

“Absolutely!” Hank agreed, springing to his feet as he grabbed his jacket. “Let's go.”

*

They had just ordered their food at a nearby diner that had great lunch food, when Nick's phone rang. Giving Hank and Wu an apologetic glance, he picked it up.

“Burkhardt,” he said.

“Nick, hey, uh, it's uh, it's Bud.”

“Hey Bud,” Nick replied. “What's up?”

“I'm, uh, I'm not disturbing you, am I? 'Cos I can always call back if I am.”

“No, it's fine, I'm on lunch.”

“Right, right. Well, see, the thing is, the reason I called, is that a few of us were hoping you might want to come round for some dinner tonight. Just a little something. Informal. Few friends. A way for us to congratulate you, you know. What with things going so well with you and the Prince and all. The boys are really excited, and the wife's already started baking up a storm. You will come, won't you, Nick? 'Cos I have to be honest with you, I don't really want to have to tell the wife you can't make it.”

“Bud,” Nick said, smile clearly audible in his voice. “Are you trying to emotionally manipulate me?”

“Uh, no,” he replied.

Nick laughed. “Yeah you are,” he said. “It's good to see you getting more confident. But you don't have to twist my arm. Of course I'll come.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, Nick. You won't regret this, I promise. And, uh, and, the Prince? Would he want to come to? I mean, I know it won't be anything fancy like he's used to. But, uh, but, it wouldn't feel right, not inviting him, you know?”

“He'll come,” Nick replied. “And don't worry, he may have royal blood, but he's just like the rest of us.”

Bud made a disbelieving sound.

“Want us to bring anything?” Nick asked.

“No, no, no need for that,” Bud replied. “Really, the wife's already cooking.”

“Okay, I'll see you tonight. Seven?”

“Seven. Seven's good. Seven's great. See you.”

Smiling, Nick hung up. 

“Did you just accept a dinner invitation for yourself and the Captain without talking to him first?” Hank asked.

Wu, looking incredulous, pointed his fry at Nick. “Your funeral,” he said.

“It'll be fine,” Nick replied. “We're dating now, remember?”

Both men gave him amused and disbelieving looks.

*

Back at the station, Nick saw that Sean had returned from City Hall. And that there was a large, nondescript man loitering by the side of the bullpen, with a clear view of Renard in his office. The man was pinging on Nick's grimm radar. He stayed out of everyone's way enough that he wasn't causing many glances in his direction, but watching him, Nick noticed that he also didn't appear to be waiting for anyone.

“What?” Hank asked.

Turning to him, Nick shook his head. If the man was wesen, it was entirely likely he had hearing good enough to pick up their conversation. And any conversation that happened in Renard's office.

“I have some dinner plans to discuss,” he replied, slapping Hank on the shoulder as he made his ways towards the office.

“He was a good detective,” Wu said, “brave and loyal, but sometimes lacking in the brains department.”

Rolling his eyes, Hank got to work.

*

Glancing up at the knock on his open door, Sean felt a smile tug at his lips, despite the stress of his morning, at the sight of Nick Burkhardt standing there.

“Nick,” he said. “How can I help you.”

“Well,” said Nick, stepping in and closing the door. “I was thinking.” Moving forward, he passed his usual place against the side table, coming around Sean's desk to lean back against it, pushing himself in between Sean's legs as Sean instinctively pushed his chair back slightly at Nick's approach.

“What about?” he asked. He mouth and throat felt dry, and his heart-rate increased in his chest.

Nick smiled, his eyes gleaming. “As my official lover,” he said, “and chosen,” Sean closed his eyes briefly at those words, savouring the sound, before opening them once more, “I think that you should make things up to me,” Nick finished.

“Make things up to you?” Sean asked.

Nick nodded. “Yes,” he said. “You see, I've had a terrible time of it lately. Your family really haven't been very nice to me.”

Sean smirked. “And you think that means I should make it up to you.”

Nick shrugged. “They are your family,” he said. “And I've been very nice to them so far.” Letting his smirk change into a smile, Sean wondered, if Nick had been nice, what he would be like if he wasn't being nice to his family. 

“I can hardly control their actions,” Sean replied.

Leaning forward, Nick placed his hands on the arms of Sean's chair. “Maybe not,” he said. “But you have to admit, they've made things rather... hard... recently.”

Sean's eyebrows rose. Nick's eyes flicked to the side. Following his gaze, Sean became aware of the man loitering in the bullpen. He didn't recognise him, but neither his father nor Viktor were likely to send anyone he would recognise. The posture of the man suggested he was listening intently. For a moment, Sean felt a pang of regret – not that their conversation was being listened to, but rather that Nick knew it was so. He pushed that away. This relationship was all pretend.

Leaning back in his chair, Sean looked up at Nick. “Well,” he said, “I suppose I may be able to be convinced to make it up to you.”

Grinning, Nick slid his hands up the chair's arms, before dragging them back down, this time on top of Sean's arms, and twining their fingers together. “Good,” he breathed out. “Because I think I need a lot of making up to be done.”

“And what exactly did you have in mind?” Sean asked. His skin prickled and he could feel the tension filling the room.

“Oh, you know,” Nick replied, playing with his fingers. “We could just start with you giving me a night of your time.”

“I always do that.”

Flashing a smile, Nick slid his right foot forward, nudging it against Sean's and causing Sean's legs to fall wide open. “Mmmm,” he agreed, “but this would be a little different.”

“In what way?”

“Dinner.”

“Dinner?”

Nick nodded. “We're going to dinner at a friend's tonight,” he said.

“You mean we've been invited?” Sean asked.

“Going,” Nick corrected giving a somewhat bashful grin. “I've already accepted for us.”

Sean sighed. “And if I had other plans.”

“You'd change them for me?” his grimm suggested. Shaking his head, Sean laughed. 

“What do I get out of it?” he asked.

Nick pouted. “You're meant to be making things up to me,” he said. Then he grinned. “But I'm sure I could think of something.” Leaning forward, he let his hands slide up to Sean's shoulders, as his lips moved to brush over the older man's ear. “Use your imagination,” he breathed. Sitting back, he gave Sean a smile, before pushing himself to his feet.

“I'll see you tonight,” Nick said. “Meet me at the house beforehand?”

Heart racing, skin feeling too tight, Sean could only nod as Nick left his office. Perhaps, if Viktor didn't succeed in killing him, this fake relationship would instead.

*

The afternoon passed fairly quickly, with Nick and Hank working their way steadily through their paperwork.

“At this rate,” Hank declared, “we're going to have nothing to do.”

“Don't jinx it,” Nick replied, glancing up. “But you're right. Wanna call it a day and leave some of this for Monday?”

“You know, I was just thinking that,” Hank replied. Grinning, they got to their feet, heading out of the station.

*

Sean arrived at Nick's to find the lights on, and Nick pulling a shirt over his freshly-washed hair as he answered the door.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Thanks for coming.”

“Someone said they would make it worth my while,” Sean replied.

Grinning, Nick headed back into the kitchen. “That's true,” he said. “And just wait until you taste Bud's wife's cooking.” Grabbing his wallet and keys, he turned back to Sean. “Ready?”

*

“Tomorrow's the weekend,” Nick said as he drove. Sean hummed in agreement. “Are you headed into the station?”

“No,” Sean replied. “I was able to get most of my paperwork cleared this afternoon. The rest can wait for monday.” He made a face. “And my father and Viktor will likely want to meet with us,” he said.

“We could always be busy,” Nick replied. Sean raised an eyebrow, but waited for him to continue. “After all,” Nick said, “they didn't really give us any warning at all of their coming, so they can hardly fault us for already having plans.” He turned into Bud's street, coming to a halt outside the eisbiber's house, before turning to look at Renard. “Normally,” he explained, “whenever I have a Saturday off, I go to Holly and Carly's games.”

“The blutbad and coyotl?”

Nick nodded. “Holly plays hockey, and Carly plays soccer,” he said. 

“And this is a standing arrangement?” Sean asked. “Plans already set.”

“Yep,” Nick agreed. He grinned. “Besides, it'll be good for us to be seen together in places other than the station or home.”

“Isn't that what I'm doing here?” Sean asked. Glancing over at the brightly lit house, the sounds of a number of people washing out from it, he began to tense up.

“Hey,” Nick said, drawing Sean's attention back to him. “Relax.” Leaning across the car towards the other man, he pulled him into a kiss.

Lips pressed against Nick's, Sean had the thought that he was getting far too used to being able to kiss the grimm. When Nick pressed against his lips with his tongue, Sean found himself opening his mouth easily. Their tongues twined, stroking, fighting lightly.

“Seriously?!” someone exclaimed, and there was a tapping on the window.

Groaning, Nick pulled back slowly, before darting forward once more to place a quick peck on Sean's lips. Turning, he saw Monroe glaring at them, Rosalee grinning by his side. Reaching out, Nick opened the door, stepping out.

“I think it's sweet,” Rosalee said. She smiled at Sean as he also emerged from the car. “Congratulations, I'm really pleased for you two.”

“Thank you,” Sean replied, smoothing his suit.

Monroe simply shook his head. “There are some things some of us don't ever want to know,” he said.

“Hey,” Nick replied, “you're acting like I've never walked in on you and Rosalee kissing before!” He shot Rosalee an apologetic glance.

“Which you do quite well, by the way,” Monroe said. “At least maybe now you'll be too busy with your own lover to interrupt us.”

Rolling his eyes, Nick stepped around the car to join Sean. He could tell that the other man was still slightly tense, so, without really thinking about it, he let his hand brush against Sean's, twining their fingers together for a moment. He was just about to pull back, having given Sean's hand a squeeze, when Sean's fingers curled tight around his own. And didn't appear to be letting go any time soon.

Grinning, Nick started towards the house, Sean at his side. 

*

Stepping into the house through the open door, Nick smiled at the warmth and laughter that surrounded them. 

“Uncle Nick!” came a cry. Barrelling down the hall towards them, pushing and shoving to try and get ahead, came Frankie and Ned Wurstner. Laughing, Nick let go of Sean's hand in order to spread his arms, drawing both boys into a quick hug as they reached him.

Frankie, the elder of the two, stepped back first, soon followed by Ned.

“Hey boys,” Nick said. “How are you?”

“Great!” Ned enthused. His eyes flickered towards the Prince, before he leant in to talk to Nick. “Is that really the Prince?!” he asked.

“Yes, he really is,” Nick replied. “Did you want to say hello?”

Ned cast another glance Sean's way, before turning back to Nick quickly and shaking his head.

“Did you get our pictures?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah, I did, thanks,” Nick replied. The boys beamed.

“Pictures?” Sean asked.

Frankie's eyes widened. “You didn't see them?” he asked.

“They drew us some pictures in congratulations,” Nick told Sean. “I received them yesterday, and meant to show you, but with everything that's been happening with Viktor, I never got a chance. Besides,” he added, nodding to Frankie and Ned, “the pictures were so good,” he told them, “I figured I'd keep them for when Sean here really needs something to help make him feel better.”

The boys nodded solemnly.

“Nick!” Bud exclaimed. “There you are! And the Prince! Y-Your highness,” he stuttered out, his brain catching up with his mouth as he turned to face Sean.

“Relax, Bud,” Nick told him. 

“Relax? I am relaxed. Why wouldn't I be relaxed It's not like I suddenly have royalty in my house or something!”

“O-kay,” Monroe said from behind them. “That's enough talking and clogging up the hallway. Where's this food I was promised?”

*

The evening passed in a kind of surreal way to Nick. He was constantly hyper-aware of Sean's presence either at his side, or not very far away. At the same time, he found he struggled to focus on the conversations of those around him. Whenever they were standing close together, Nick found his fingers twined with Sean's. 

Spotting little Mary Wurstner darting between the legs of the guests, Nick bent down, scooping her up as she gave a squeal of delight. 

“Unca N'ck!” she cried.

“And just where do you think you are going?” Nick asked, tickling her gently under her chin. Giggling, Mary ducked her chin down, hands coming up to grab at Nick's hair.

“P'ay,” she said.

“Play?” Nick asked.

She nodded seriously. 

“Hmmm,” Nick replied. “Well, you'll have to be careful, there are lots of people here tonight.”

“Fun,” Mary told him.

Chuckling, Nick agreed. “Yeah,” he said. “Now, where are your brothers? I think I heard they were meant to be watching out for you.” Glancing around the yard – they had moved outside almost immediately after arriving – he saw Frankie and Ned huddled with a group of youngsters over to one side. Striding in their direction, he resolutely ignored the baby-spit slick fingers Mary was rubbing in his hair.

“Nick!” Frankie said, catching sight of him and quickly hiding something behind his back. Nick raised one eyebrow, before rolling his eyes at them.

“That better not be anything dangerous,” he said.

“N-no, no. Of c-course n-not,” one of the other boys – one Nick had yet to meet – stammered.

Ned gave him a nudge. “Relax, would you?” he asked. “It's just Nick. He protects us. Besides, he's with the Prince now!”

Nodding, the other boy swallowed hard, giving Nick a tremulous smile.

“Well,” said Nick, hefting Mary in his arms and giving Frankie a look. “I just came over here as I think I may have picked up someone you were meant to be minding?”

Frankie groaned. “She's so little,” he said. “Why do we have to watch out for her?”

“Because she's little,” Nick replied. “You don't want her to get hurt because someone didn't see her, do you?”

Shaking his head, Frankie held out his arms, accepting Mary from Nick.

“Nick! There you are,” said Bud, hurrying up to them. “Boys,” he added, nodding to the group, giving Frankie a smile when he saw him holding Mary. “There's someone I think you should meet,” Bud explained, grabbing hold of Nick's arm and beginning to drag him away from the boys. “Well, several someones, really,” he said.

Pulling Nick around the yard, he introduced him to wesen after wesen, until Nick's head was swimming with names. He had no doubt that, if Sean was in his place, the other man would somehow manage to remember all the names. But he was having trouble remembering any of them. 

As they moved, the wesen Nick had been introduced to began to follow him, so that a large group soon formed.

“Where did everyone come from?” Nick hissed to Bud, staring around. He was honestly surprised that the Wurstner's back yard was holding them all.

Bud shrugged. “Oh, they've always been around,” he said, “just not, you know, making themselves known to a Grimm.” He shot Nick a grin. “You know some, of course,” he said, “and you might recognise some others from the Lodge. They're all ones who have supported you before – in whatever ways they can. Whether that's just, you know, staying out of your way, or, uh, or telling others you're different.” Nick nodded. “And now that you're, you know, with the Prince, they feel safe in approaching you.

“This is Frank Rabe,” Bud continued, pulling Nick along.

“We've met,” Nick said, smiling at the other man. “Frank.” He shook his hand. 

A few introductions later, and it finally appeared that Bud had run through all those he really wanted to introduce Nick to. Instead, they stood in a group around him, pressed close, and all watching Nick.

Glancing around, Nick tried to catch sight of Sean, but he couldn't see him.

“Nick,” Frank Rabe said, drawing his attention. “Some of us wanted to take this opportunity to ask whether you would be willing to step in for us.”

Nick frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Frank smiled. “There are things it is difficult to explain to ordinary humans,” he said. “Things that affect our daily lives and that, until now, we've had no real way of addressing. How do you explain to a human that a Lausenschlange bullying a Mauzhertz is because of who they 'are', part of their instincts? What do you do when there's no evidence of a human being involved, but you know who did what and how?”

“I understand what you're saying,” Nick said, “but I'm not sure what that has to do with me?”

“You're a Grimm,” someone called out. Nick thought his name may be Everett, and that he may be a stangebar, but he wasn't entirely sure. “You know about us,” Everett continued. “We could explain to you and you would understand. Then you could pass judgement.” Around him, there were nods, even as Nick shook his head.

“I can't judge,” he said. “What would give me that right?”

“You're a Grimm!” someone else called out. “An arbitrator! It's what you do.”

“What grimms do,” another called, “is kill us. But you're our grimm – you always ask questions. You don't just kill. You've allied yourself with our Prince. That gives you the right.”

“I'm not a judge,” Nick said. “That's why I ask questions. Why I try to arrest those wesen who commit crime in this city. Because I'm not a judge, I'm a cop.”

“In some ways you're a judge,” Monroe said. Glancing at him, Nick frowned. “Oh come on,” Monroe said, “sometimes, you have to make the call. To take the shot. When they leave you no other choice.”

“I do,” Nick agreed, “but that doesn't make me a judge. I've tried so very hard to be different to my ancestors, to not be the monster of your stories, and now you want me to judge you? To start making those decisions about who should live or die?”

“The Prince could make those decisions,” Everett suggested. There was a swelling murmur of agreement.

“Yeah,” a blutbad called out. “It's part of the role of a royal anyway.”

“You could do your police thing, find out what happened,” Everett continued, “and then let the Prince know what you find out. When you need to, you can arbitrate, and when you need to, you can ask the Prince to judge.” There was a lot of nodding from the crowd.

“Unless you don't trust the Prince to judge?” someone asked.

Nick wanted to scowl in reply, but instead he rolled his eyes, making sure his expression remained relaxed and open. “Of course I trust him,” he replied. He glanced around at them. “You all want this?” he asked.

More nods and cries of agreement.

“Okay,” Nick replied with a shrug, spreading his arms wide. “But don't expect any miracles. I am just one guy.”

As the crowd surged forward, thanking him, Nick saw a dark shape move at the back. He suspected it was the wesen who had questioned his trust in the Captain. As the man moved away from the crowd and towards the exit form the yard, he passed through a lighter patch, confirming Nick's other thought – it was the same man who had been loitering at the precinct, listening in on Renard.

Leaning back, Nick pressed against Sean's front as the older man appeared behind him. In response, Sean's arms slipped easily around Nick, pulling him further into the cradle of his body. Reaching up, Nick laid his hands on Sean's forearms.

“Our friend from the station just left,” he murmured. “Want me to go after him.”

“No,” Sean replied. “Let him report back to his masters.” His breath washed over Nick's ear and neck as he spoke, face dipping down into the space between Nick's shoulder and neck, scenting him. Nick shivered as Sean's nose brushed a line up his neck. He laughed.

“What do I smell like?” he asked.

“Good,” Sean growled. 

Nick's eyebrows rose, but then Bud was there, having found someone else to introduce him to.

*

“Thank you,” Nick said, as they pulled away from Bud's house. 

Glancing over at him, Sean watched the streetlights reflect off Nick's face. “You're welcome,” he replied. Reaching out, he placed his hand over Nick's, giving it a quick squeeze. Nick's hand twisted in his, turning, so that he could twine their fingers together.

*

It was late when they arrived at Sean's apartment building. Climbing out of the car, Nick stretched with a yawn. 

“I am ready for bed,” he declared.

Chuckling, Sean drew him close with a tug on his hand, before starting towards his apartment.

They nodded to the door guard, taking the elevator, and walked quietly along the hallway to Sean's door.

Fishing for his keys, Sean felt Nick move up behind him, plastering himself against Sean's back, and leaning up on his toes a little so that he could hook his chin over Sean's shoulder. Turning his head, Nick pressed his face into Sean's neck, breathing in deep. As he did so, he listened.

“Nick?” Sean questioned.

“Mmm?” Nick responded. There was the click of the door unlocking, the soft turn of the handle, the almost-silent slide of the hinges, and there - “It's bugged,” Nick declared. Sean froze.

Groaning, Nick stepped back from Sean, before moving around him and into the apartment. He listened closely, moving through the rooms as he did so. When he returned, it was with a pile of bugs in his hand.

Scowling, Sean stormed towards his bedroom, where he quickly gathered some clothing, before returning to Nick. A crushed pile of what had once been bugs littered the kitchen counter-top.

Without speaking, they left the apartment, headed back to the car and Nick's house.

*

It was almost scary, Nick thought, how quickly he'd become used to sharing a bed with his Captain. After just two nights, he could feel himself waiting in anticipation for the older man to join him, only fully relaxing when Sean slid beneath the covers to his side.

“I am ready to kill Viktor,” Sean declared.

Humming in agreement, but not really wanting to waste any time or energy thinking about Viktor when he was in bed with Sean, Nick rolled over, slinging his arm across Sean's chest and tugging him closer to him.

“Come on,” he murmured, “we need to make sure we share our scents.” 

Grumbling, Sean shifted closer to him. At the same time, Nick tried to roll closer and press his face into the curve between Sean's neck and shoulder. The result was his chin whacking, rather hard, into Sean's collar bone. Hissing, Sean drew back. Nick groaned.

“Sorry,” he said, throwing one hand up over his eyes.

There was silence, then Sean moved back towards him, drawing Nick in close once more. “We'll just have to practice,” he said. Nick let himself be dragged up against Sean's side, relishing in the slide of skin against skin on their torsos.

Shifting closer, he moved half-on-top of Sean, chest to chest, his head, easily this time, finding that space between Sean's shoulder and neck where he could breathe in the scent of the other man.

Sean's arm tightened around Nick.

Grinning, Nick dropped off to sleep, surrounded in warmth and a feeling of safety he didn't remember ever feeling before in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, at a bit over 12k words, I, once again, have a new record for longest chapter I've ever written. Looking at my plans for Day Four - well, it may just have to come in two parts, because, unless something changes, I'm pretty sure it'll be about 10k before lunch and 10k after, so....


	4. Day Four - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An early morning wake-up call, discussions at the Spice Shop, shopping, breakfast and a hockey game. Not to mention the flirting. There is a lot of flirting. (Oh, and does Sean have a hickey?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, my apologies that this has taken twice as long as usual to get out. The first week, we had people on leave and sick at work so I was pulling double shifts. The second week, all that caught up to me and I basically came home from work and slept each evening. 
> 
> Secondly, unfortunately, no records are broken with this chapter - but I figured, better to get it out to you now, than make you wait until I'd written the second half. And, you still get over 8000 words with this half, so...

Nick woke to pounding on his front door. Groaning, he pressed his face further into Sean's chest, trying to block out the noise. The pounding continued.

 

“Make it stop,” he muttered against Sean's skin.

 

“It's your house,” Sean replied, voice thick with sleep. His arms were wrapped tight around Nick and, despite his words, they tightened – as though refusing to let Nick leave the bed.

 

The knocking continued.

 

Groaning once more, Nick pushed himself up enough to peer bleerily at his clock. 7am. On a Saturday. When he didn't have work. Dropping his forehead down onto Sean's chest, he drew in a deep breath, drawing in the scent of the other man.

 

“If that's Viktor,” Sean said, “shoot him.” He paused. “Or cut off his head. Stab him. Whatever. Just get rid of him.”

 

Rolling to the side of the bed, Nick reluctantly pulled himself to his feet, already missing the safety and warmth of being in Sean's arms.

 

Stumbling down the stairs, he made his way to the front door, yanking it open to see a rather flustered and anxious blutbad standing on his porch.

 

“We have a problem,” Monroe said.

 

“It's 7am,” Nick said. “On a Saturday.”

 

“Uh, 6:30, man. During my pilates. You owe me so much more than this.”

 

Sighing and leaning against the door frame, Nick stared at Monroe. “What's up?” he asked.

 

Regaining his flustered look, Monroe glanced past Nick into the house. “Is the Prince here?” he asked. “I think this is something he should hear. I mean, he is here, right? He did stay over last night? What am I saying,” he took a sniff, “of course he stayed over. Can you get him?”

 

Leaning back into the house, Nick glanced towards the staircase. “Sean!” he yelled.

 

“Or, I guess, that works too,” Monroe said, giving Nick the same look Aunt Marie used to give him when she asked him to fetch someone or tell them something and he shouted instead of actually going and doing so. Nick refrained from telling Monroe that – he thought it might frighten his friend a little bit too much to be compared to his Aunt.

 

Footsteps came from the staircase.

 

“Have you killed him yet?” Sean asked, coming into view. He, like Nick, was only wearing sleep pants. And Nick found himself rather distracted by the sight of all that smooth skin and sculpted muscle.

 

“What?!” Monroe exclaimed, drawing Nick's attention back to him. “Don't you think that's a little excessive for knocking on your door at 7 in the morning when you've knocked on mine at 6:30 before?” He gave Nick a rather judging look.

 

Nick sighed. “We thought you might have been Viktor.”

 

“Oh, Okay. You need help burying the body, just let me know.”

 

“Thanks.” Smiling, Nick motioned Monroe inside. “What did you need to tell us?”

 

“Well,” said Monroe, turning to look at them, before choking. His words cut off, he made a rather impressive face, and then shook his head. “Shoulda guessed it,” he said.

 

“Guessed what?” Nick asked.

 

Monroe motioned towards Sean. “Rosalee and I,” he said, “we thought maybe, just maybe, you two were faking it or something. Not that you aren't totally, like, into each other in that way, man, 'cos boy, are you. But, you know, it's just that we'd never had any indication before that you were acting on that interest.

 

“But we should have guessed.” He nodded at Sean.

 

Following his gaze, Nick's eyes fell upon a decent-sized bruise on Sean's collar-bone. It was oval, a deep red with purple in the centre, and looked exactly like a hickey.

 

Face heating, Nick glanced up to look at Sean. The bruise, Nick knew, would have been created when he accidentally hit Sean with his chin the night before.

 

“Huh,” Sean said, meeting Nick's gaze having given his own perusal of his bruise. He smirked at the red of Nick's face. “Guess you left your mark,” he said.

 

Nick blushed impossibly redder.

 

“O-kay,” Monroe said, holding up his hands to stop them. “That's enough flirting when I'm present. Besides, we have a problem.”

 

“What problem?” Nick asked. If focusing on the problem that Monroe was worried about gave him an opportunity to ignore the fact that Sean had been flirting with him, well, no-one but him had to know.

 

Monroe started to pace. “It's, well,” he began, “the shop's been over-run.”

 

“Overrun?”

 

Monroe nodded. “Yeah. Rosalee and I went in early this morning to, you know, work on putting a new order away and all. But when we got there, they were already waiting.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Wesen! All of them!”

 

Nick frowned. “All of them?” he asked.

 

“Seems like. Apparently, they were so happy after meeting you last night, that they want to do something about it.”

 

“Do what?” Sean asked.

 

“To be honest, I didn't actually quite get that far in trying to understand the situation,” Monroe said. “Just, there's a lot of them, and they're all excited, and when I left, the numbers were growing. Rosalee was worried we'd have a riot – or something that looks a lot like a riot but is just a bunch of really excited wesen – on our hands if we didn't do something. So she sent me to get you.”

 

“They're excited?” Nick asked.

 

“Uh, yeah. Majorly.”

 

“They're not unhappy about Sean and I, are they?”

 

“Not that I could tell – they seemed quite the opposite actually. But, look, can we go? Only, I left Rosalee there by herself, and -”

 

“Say no more,” Nick held up a hand as he stopped him. “Let us just get dressed, and we'll meet you there.”

 

Nodding, Monroe hurried back out the door to head back to the shop, throwing a 'Thanks!' over his shoulder as he did so.

 

*

 

Turning to face Sean, Nick found his eyes once more drawn to the mark left on the other man's collarbone. His face heated in response, even as he found himself wondering just what it would feel like to give Sean a mark like that with his mouth, rather than his chin.

 

“My eyes are up here,” Sean informed him drily.

 

Glancing up at his face, Nick blushed even harder. Sean laughed.

 

“Come on,” he said, “before Monroe gets even more panicked.”

 

Watching Sean ascend the stairs before him, Nick was extremely grateful for the rather tight fit of Sean's sleep pants.

 

*

 

Grabbing a clean pair of jeans, and boxers, Nick wriggled out of his sleep pants, quickly dressing. If his eyes darted a couple of times to where Sean was also changing – well, there was no-one there to see, and if there had been, it would only have helped to convince them that the relationship was real.

 

Tugging on a grey t-shirt, Nick cast a look out the window. Sunshine, but with clouds building away towards the horizon. He'd need something a bit warmer. His eyes fell on Sean's shirt from the day before, neatly folded and placed on a chair.

 

Grinning, Nick snatched up the light blue fabric, pulling it on over his t-shirt but leaving it unbuttoned.

 

Dressing, Sean glanced over to see if Nick was ready. His mouth went dry and he swallowed, hard. Nick was wearing his shirt. Casually. As though it was something natural to do. Breathing in, Sean caught the scent of Nick – overlaid with his scent. That part of him he normally hid shifted in satisfaction at the smell.

 

“Ready?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Nick replied, shooting Sean a grin. It broadened into a smile at the sight of Sean in a casual pair of slacks and dark blue sweater.

 

“What?” Sean asked, frowning at Nick's smile.

 

Nick shrugged. “I don't often get to see you out of a suit,” he said, “you look good.” Turning, he hurried down the stairs, leaving Sean to follow after him.

 

Grabbing his jacket from the coat hooks by the door, and tossing Sean's at the older man, Nick headed out to where his truck was parked, swiping the keys on the way.

 

Following Nick out the door, Sean dogged his steps. Deliberately placing himself so close that he was almost stepping on Nick's heels. As they reached the truck, Sean pushed forward, crowding Nick against the side of the truck as he went to open the driver's door.

 

“Sean?” Nick asked.

 

“I think I should drive, don't you?” Sean said. He dropped his hands onto Nick's shoulders, trailing them down his arms until he reached Nick's hands. Curling his fingers, Sean tugged at the keys clasped in Nick's right fist.

 

Nick tightened his grip, pushing back against Sean so that he could turn around. Back pressed against the truck, Sean plastered to his front, their hands twined together and breathing the same air – Nick felt his mind go blank.

 

Sean smirked at him. Long, talented fingers stroked over Nick's closed fist, dipping down to try and pry his fingers open.

 

Dipping his head so that there was only a mere inch between their lips, Sean spoke. “Give me the keys, Nick,” he said.

 

“Why?” Nick asked. He wasn't entirely sure why he was protesting, it wasn't like he had anything against Sean driving (the part of his mind that insisted that protesting would prolong their suddenly close contact was promptly ignored).

 

Sean hummed in the back of his throat, tilting his head to the side – just enough so that, if they pressed forward, their noses would slide past each other, allowing them to kiss. “You've been doing a lot of the driving,” Sean said. “So I think it's my turn, now.” He didn't mention the fact that Nick had also been doing a lot of the teasing, so it seemed only fair to return that, too.

 

Stroking his hands over Nick's, drawing patterns with his fingers and pressing lightly over his wrists, Sean leant further into the younger man. They were pressed together all along their fronts, Sean's right leg slotted in between Nick's.

 

Nick licked his lips. “What will you give me if I do?” he asked.

 

Sean blinked, letting a smile curve against his mouth. He wondered, vaguely, just who or what Nick had heard – he knew the grimm had exceptional hearing and had noticed a pattern of Nick teasing him whenever someone was close enough to see and/or hear. It helped their ruse, but Sean had to admit he'd like Nick to tease him when they were alone, too.

 

Pushing away those thoughts, Sean leant his head down, nosing at the hollow of Nick's throat. Darting his tongue out, he licked a small stripe there, before slowly drawing his nose up Nick's neck, brushing lightly against his skin. Reaching Nick's ear, Sean placed a tiny kiss on the lobe, before breathing out, letting his breath wash over Nick's skin.

 

“Well,” he said. Beneath him, Nick shivered, resting his entire weight back against the truck, hands coming up to clutch at Sean's biceps. “I'm sure you can think of something you want,” Sean murmured. Letting his nose brush the skin just beneath Nick's ear, he placed another kiss on his neck, before leaning back.

 

Nick's head was swimming. The hard side of the truck behind him and the firm strength of Sean along his front hemmed him in. His pulse was racing in his ears and his skin tingled wherever Sean touched him.

 

He was just opening his mouth to respond, when someone cleared their throat. Nick jumped.

 

Closing his eyes for a moment in frustration, Sean turned to see who had interrupted them. Mrs Daisy stood by her front garden, hose in one hand.

 

“Now boys,” she said, “I was happy enough to just let you have your fun at first, but there are some things an old woman shouldn't see.” She gave them a look. “Unless, of course, she's invited,” she added.

 

Groaning and blushing, Nick pressed his face against Sean's chest.

 

“Sorry, Mrs Daisy,” he said, voice muffled.

 

“Oh, don't you go apologising Mr Nick,” she replied airily. “Goodness knows you deserve some happiness.” She turned her sharp gaze on Sean. “But you,” she said, “careful what you start where,” she instructed him. “Certain things should be done in private.”

 

Surprised at the older woman's words, Sean took a step back.

 

“That's better,” Mrs Daisy continued. “I was beginning to think I'd have to hose you two off.”

 

Sean's eyes darkened at the thought of Nick in wet, clinging clothing. Nick's hands tightened on Sean's arms.

 

“We didn't even kiss,” Nick complained, a whine making it's way into his voice that had Sean raising an eyebrow.

 

Mrs Daisy tutted. “Maybe not,” she said, “but I've seen plenty of kisses with far, far less heat than you two were letting off. The way you were headed, it's a good thing I stopped you before you gave the whole neighbourhood a show.”

 

Nick gaped.

 

“I assure you, Mrs Daisy,” Sean said smoothly, “that that will never happen.” He gave her a tight smile. “I don't share.”

 

“Well, good,” Mrs Daisy replied, turning her hose on. “Now, weren't you two headed somewhere before you got distracted?” she asked.

 

“Monroe and Rosalee,” Nick gasped, turning to open the truck door.

 

Reaching out, Sean plucked the keys from Nick's hand. “I'm driving,” he said.

 

Nick frowned. “That wasn't agreed on,” he said.

 

“Only because we were interrupted.” Making a motion with his hand, Sean continued. “Besides, you don't want to be any later than we already are, do you?”

 

Scowling, Nick stomped over to the passenger side. “I don't know why you want to drive,” he said, pulling the door shut behind him.

 

Sean refrained from telling him that it wasn't the driving he was interested in, so much as the feel of Nick as he tried to persuade the younger man.

 

*

 

Pulling up in front of the Tea and Spice shop, Sean killed the engine. There was a line of people overflowing out the door and along the sidewalk. Going to open his door, Sean was stopped by Nick's hand on his shoulder.

 

Turning back, he raised one eyebrow at Nick.

 

Nick grinned. Leaning forward, tugging Sean towards him with the hand on his shoulder, he pressed his lips against Sean's. Fingers digging into Sean's shoulder, Nick brushed his tongue against the older man's lips.

 

With a groan, Sean opened his mouth, letting Nick in. Lifting his free hand, Nick placed it on Sean's other shoulder, trailing his fingers down his arm and to his hand.

 

Nibbling on Sean's lower lip, Nick closed his fingers around the truck's keys, gently pulling them from Sean's lax grip. Letting go of Sean's lip, he sat back, eyes sparking with laughter.

 

“Let's go,” he said.

 

Sean shot him a look, but it lacked any heat. Halting Nick with a hand on his face, Sean drew him back into another kiss. Closed-mouthed, but sending waves of desire through him nonetheless.

 

Climbing out of the truck, Nick sighed at the sight of so many wesen. They were obviously agitated, woging almost constantly as they pushed and pressed against each other, trying to get into the already packed shop.

 

“All right,” Nick called out, grabbing their attention. Sean came up by his side, and Nick shot him a grin, hand dropping down to twine with Sean's. “Everybody calm down and take a step back,” he continued.

 

Shuffling, the crowd did as he asked, creating more room between each other.

 

“If you'll excuse us,” Sean said smoothly, starting forward and tugging Nick along with him by the hand. Sean headed straight for the shop's door, stride purposeful. Before them, the crowd dropped back, creating a path through which they were able to wind their way into the shop and up to the counter, where Rosalee and Monroe were standing, side by side.

 

“Took you long enough,” Monroe said, seeing them. He gave Nick a judging look at their reddened lips and slightly rumpled clothing.

 

“What's going on?” Nick asked, glancing between his friends.

 

Rosalee sighed. “They want me to contact the Council,” she said.

 

“The Council?” Frowning, Nick glanced up at Sean. “Why?”

 

“Well, because of you,” Rosalee replied, indicating between the two.

 

Nick's frown deepened. “What do you mean, because of us?” he asked. “They don't think they can break us up, do they? I thought everyone was happy with our relationship?” The look on Nick's face was fierce and dark at the thought.

 

“We are,” one of the wesen called out. Turning, Nick saw nods of agreement from all those present.

 

“Yes,” another called. “very happy.”

 

There was some snickering and giggling from one corner, where Nick saw some of the younger wesen – teenagers. He shook his head.

 

“Then why contact the Council?” he asked.

 

“To ask them to acknowledge and ratify your alliance, and your position in the canton.” Frank Rabe stepped forward, gaze steady as he looked at Nick.

 

Nick blinked. “Okay,” he said, turning to Sean. “Explain?” he asked.

 

There was a look in Sean's eyes – shock, or awe, or something similar. It was well-hidden, and Nick only noticed because he knew the man so well, but it caused him to squeeze Sean's hand in his.

 

“I claimed this canton,” Sean said, “when I first moved here. As one of royal blood, I staked my claim and have since defended it.” Around him there were nods, but no-one tried to interrupt. “It's something I did, independent of the Council,” Sean continued. “They don't mind when a royal claims a canton – so long as they keep order and peace and follow their laws. But they also generally don't acknowledge their authority, as it isn't authority that the Council has given them.

 

“However, very rarely, those living in a canton will petition the Council to acknowledge the royal in their canton. If the Council agrees, they acknowledge their authority within the canton, leaving the running of it completely up to them, and helping to defend them against any threats as necessary.

 

“By ratifying our alliance, they would be officially acknowledging and recording it, and thereby also acknowledging your rule in the canton as my Chosen.” He paused, before seemingly deciding and continuing. “In the past, the royal families worked with the Council. They were supported by the Council, upheld Council law, and were the acknowledged rulers in their cantons. But, over the years, their rule has changed. Instead of focusing on creating peace and safety for all those under their rule, they have focused on increasing their power and influence.

 

“Because of this, the Council withdrew their alliance with the families. They haven't openly challenged the families, but they have made it clear that the families no longer have their support, approval or acknowledgement.

 

“In doing so, they've allowed for those such as the Laufer to exist. If the Council hadn't withdrawn their support from the families, then all those in the Laufer would not only be defying the royal families, but also the Wesen Council. Because they have withdrawn their support, wesen can feel comfortable joining the Laufer or others – as they are not going against the Council.”

 

Nick hummed. “When did this happen?” he asked. “The withdrawal of support?”

 

“A few hundred years ago.”

 

“Is there anyone else the Council acknowledges?” he asked.

 

“No,” Frank said. “There hasn't been a petition in over a hundred and fifty years.” He shifted as Nick's gaze pinned him in place. “You and the Prince,” he continued, “you're different. We all know it. We see it. We acknowledge it, and want the Council to as well.”

 

“A true Royal, and a true Grimm,” a schakal said, causing the crowd to nod.

 

“True?” Nick asked.

 

“Fulfilling the roles as they were originally meant to be,” Frank replied. “A Royal who cares for all those in his canton and actively works to create a place of safety and peace for them. A Grimm who works with the Royal, acting as arbitrator and enforcer for the Royal, upholding law and order in the canton.”

 

“The kind we would follow and obey because we respect them,” a lowen rumbled (Nick thought he was the lowen barista he'd seen the day this all started), “not because of fear.”

 

“The first Royal and Grimm to work together in centuries,” Everett, the stangebar said. “That's something worth petitioning the Council about.”

 

Leaning back into Sean's side, Nick turned his head to look at him, searching his eyes. He had the feeling this was something Sean wanted. Badly. “It's just a petition, right?” he asked.

 

“Thank you,” Sean said, gazing out over the wesen. “Thank you for trusting us enough to ask for this.”

 

“I wanted to check with you first before doing anything,” Rosalee said.

 

Sean nodded. A quick glance at Nick showed the complete trust the younger man had in him, making Sean's throat close slightly.

 

“Then we accept,” he said. “May the Council choose as they will.”

 

“Whatever they choose,” the lowen spoke up once more. “We acknowledge you.” There was a murmur of agreement.

 

*

 

“You were surprised,” Nick said, as he pulled away from the curb.

 

“I was,” Sean admitted. “I had hoped for acceptance from the Wesen Community. Tolerance at worst. But this – I had not thought the reaction to our alliance would be so positive as for them to petition the Council. It is so long since such a thing has happened. Such a visible show of support...” he let his voice trail off, shaking his head.

 

Nick grinned. “Bet it'd get Viktor's knickers in a twist,” he said.

 

Sean laughed. “Yes,” he said, “yes, it would.” He shared a glance with Nick.

 

*

 

“This isn't the house,” Sean said, as Nick pulled up in front of his local grocery store.

 

“No,” Nick agreed. “We need to pick up some oranges – every time I manage to make it to the girls' games, it's my job to bring the oranges.”

 

Bemused, Sean got out of the truck, following Nick into the store. “We should also get some more food,” Sean said, “considering I used up most of it the other morning.”

 

Humming in agreement, Nick grabbed a basket, before motioning Sean before him. “Lead on, then,” he said with a grin.

 

They moved through the store easily, as though they had done so multiple times before. Sean, Nick found, was particularly picky when choosing fresh food. He would pick up two tomatoes, examine them both, before putting one back, choosing another, and repeating the process. The lettuce, cucumber, carrots – anything loose, really – received the same treatment.

 

“The kids aren't going to care whether the orange skins have spots,” Nick told him, watching as Sean carefully selected the two bags of oranges Nick had requested. Sean gave him a look – one that said something uncomplimentary about Nick's lack of refinement and taste, while also telling him to shut up and wait.

 

Grinning in reply, Nick settled in to wait, leaning his hip against the orange stand, basket hanging from one arm, side pressed against Sean's. Sean automatically moved slightly to accommodate him.

 

It was upon this scene that Sergeant Wu, off duty, happened upon them.

 

“Somehow,” he declared, walking up and reaching past the Captain to grab a bag of oranges, “I never quite pictured, this.” He gave a wave of his hands to indicate the two of them and their surroundings.

 

“What, shopping?” Nick asked. “How do you think we eat?”

 

Wu grimaced. “Actually,” he said, “I never much thought about it. Generally I just wrote down dates and times and odds.”

 

“I didn't hear that,” Renard told him, tone warning. Finally choosing two bags of oranges, he placed them in Nick's basket.

 

“Well,” said Wu, deciding not to pursue that subject. “Enjoy your eating.” He made a face, turning to walk away. “I didn't think that,” he muttered. “I did not.”

 

Pretending not to hear him, Nick grabbed Sean's hand, pulling him away from the fresh fruit so that they could finish their shopping.

 

*

 

Their cashier was a teen girl, ends of her hair dyed pink, who blushed when she saw them and fumbled a few of their items. Looking past Sean, Nick grinned.

 

“What?” Sean asked, narrowing his eyes. He knew that grin. And that grin, on Nick Burkhardt, always meant trouble.

 

“Wu's heading this way,” Nick murmured, “wanna try and give him a heart attack?”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow, but made no move to discourage the grimm. Considering how all Nick's ideas for the past few days generally involved getting closer to Sean or flirting with him, he was not at all inclined to stop him.

 

Leaning into Sean's side, Nick slid his free hand (his other still clasped in Sean's) up the older man's arm to wrap around the back of his neck. Giving a gentle tug, Nick guided Sean's head down towards him, before giving the man a soft peck on the lips.

 

“I don't think that's going to give him a heart attack,” Sean said, making Nick's eyes spark at the challenge.

 

Leaning back in, Nick pressed his lips to the corner of Sean's mouth, before trailing them along his jawline, nibbling as he went. Sean's free arm wrapped around Nick's waist, pulling them flush together.

 

Reaching Sean's ear, Nick grabbed the lobe between his teeth, giving it a tug, before starting down his neck. Pressing kisses over Sean's pulse-point, Nick let his hand drift down from Sean's neck, stroking over his back. Through slitted eyes, he saw Wu looking their way with a half-impressed, half-horrified look on his face.

 

Grinning against Sean's skin, Nick dropped his hand lower, until his thumb caught on the waistband of Sean's slacks, his other fingers splayed out over the very top of his ass.

 

In response, Sean shifted his arm, letting his hand mirror the same position on Nick's posterior.

 

Nick had just started kissing along Sean's collarbone when Wu spoke.

 

“You know,” the man said, “your poor cashier looks like she doesn't know whether to interrupt you to let you know she's finished, or run away in fright.” He tilted his head to the side, considering. “I'd suggest running,” he told her.

 

The girl squeaked, making Nick pull back from Sean, an apologetic and guilty look crossing his face.

 

“Sorry,” he told her.

 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Wu said. “Apologise to her, but not to me. The person who has to put up with you all the time.”

 

“For which you are paid,” Renard reminded him. He pulled his card out while Nick was still making apologetic eyes at their cashier and shifting in place in guilt at making her nervous (how a grimm had such doleful puppy-dog eyes, Sean didn't know. He also wasn't complaining).

 

The machine beeped, accepting Sean's payment and making Nick turn to face him, pouting when he saw Sean's card.

 

“I was going to pay,” he said.

 

“Next time,” Sean told him, reaching over to grab some of their bags. He nodded to the cashier, before striding out of the store. Grabbing the remaining bags, Nick hurried after him, shooting another apologetic glance over his shoulder.

 

With a quiver, their cashier woged into a willaharra momentarily.

 

*

 

Standing in his kitchen with Sean, Nick was amazed at how easily they moved around each other. There was no hesitation in their movements, each seemingly knowing exactly where the other was without having to think about it.

 

Closing the fridge, Nick took a step back, then to the side, nimbly stepping around Sean as he grabbed a couple of glasses from a cupboard.

 

“So tell me about these games we'll be going to?” Sean asked, placing the glasses on the bench.

 

“Holly, Holly Clark,” Nick said, “the blutbad who was lost in the woods for seven years? She plays

hockey. Her mom got her involved as a way to try and help her burn off some energy and get used to being around people again.” He held up the loaf of bread. Sean nodded. “As Monroe was basically the first blutbad she ever met,” Nick continued, placing four slices of bread into the toaster, “she's kinda attached to him.”

 

“No doubt she is attached to you as well,” Sean said, “seeing as you helped find and rescue her.”

 

Nick shrugged, glancing away. Sean chuckled. Turning on the stove, he began to crack eggs into the frying pan.

 

“Anyway,” Nick said, “whenever I have a saturday off, I go to Holly's hockey game. She plays in the morning.”

 

“What time?”

 

“Ten,” Nick replied. It was currently 9am.

 

“Hmmm,” Sean hummed. “We'd best not take too long with breakfast, then,” he said.

 

Grinning, Nick reached around Sean to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes with. “I've already got the truck packed for the game,” he said, “we just need to bring the oranges and some water.”

 

The toast popped up, Nick grabbing it and dropping it onto the two plates waiting on the bench. He added the tomato to the plates, stepping aside so Sean could slide their eggs on as well.

 

Grabbing the plates, Nick headed for the table, Sean following him with the glasses.

 

*

 

It didn't take long for the two men to eat, or leave the house. Nick drove them confidently over to the sports ground where Holly's game was being held, and they arrived about twenty-to-ten.

 

Hopping out of the truck, Nick walked around to the back, where he pulled out a picnic blanket and the large cooler they'd placed the oranges and bottles of water in.

 

Sean gazed around them. A number of other vehicles were already parked, with more arriving. Parents dressed in casual clothing stood chatting in groups or giving advice to their children.

 

“Nick!” came a cry – almost a war-cry – across the field. Turning, Sean saw a teenage girl pelting towards them. Quickly, he stepped back to Nick, taking the blanket and cooler from his arms.

 

Laughing, Nick caught Holly as she flung herself at him, thankful that Sean had relieved him of his burdens. Spinning Holly around, he placed her back on the ground, pushing her back slightly to look at her.

 

“Hey, Holly,” he said, “how have to you been?”

 

“You made it,” she replied, grinning brightly. There was a low rumble beneath her voice that spoke of a happy blutbad.

 

“I did,” Nick agreed. “I have the day off, so...” he gave a shrug.

 

Grabbing his hand, Holly began to tug him over to where it appeared some of the adults had started setting up their rugs and chairs in order to watch the game.

 

“Monroe said he's gonna be here, too,” she said. Then she frowned. “He's normally here by now.”

 

“I'm sure he's still coming,” Nick told her. “But I know that he and Rosalee had some people to deal with at the shop this morning. So they might be running a bit later than usual.”

 

“Okay.” Coming to a halt, Holly grinned at her adopted mother. “Look who I found!” she said.

 

“Nick,” Mrs Clark said.

 

“Hey,” he replied with a smile.

 

There was a whistle, and all around them teenage girls perked up at the sound, heading towards their coach who was standing on the field. Giving Nick's hand a squeeze, Holly jogged over to join them.

 

“Penny,” Nick said, “this is Sean Renard, my lover.” He indicated Sean. “Sean, this is Penelope Clark, Holly's mother.”

 

Reaching out, Sean shook Penny's hand.

 

“Please,” she said, “call me Penny, everyone does.”

 

“Oh, Penny,” someone called, “you simply _must_ introduce us!” Turning, Sean saw a rather tall brunette headed in their direction. Her height, he realised, came partially from the heels on her feet. Compared to the other women, all wearing some version of boots or runners, her footwear was particularly out of place. Despite that, however, she walked with a confident ease at least equal to that of the other women in their flats. Sean had the feeling she'd be one of those women who could run easily in heels.

 

“Oh, I couldn't do that, Macy,” Penny replied. “I've only just met him.” She gave Sean a wink as she spoke.

 

“Well, you certainly can't keep him all to yourself!” Macy declared. “A fine specimen like that needs to be allowed to choose.” She batted her eyelashes at Sean, making Nick bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. Sean's eyes dropped to Nick's lip.

 

Macy, Nick knew from past experience, was a single mother who had gotten pregnant early in life, and was not yet quite ready to settle down. Any new male was of potential interest to her. She would flirt and smile and flatter outrageously, but she was also respectful if a man asked her to back down.

 

“I doubt Penny's the one doing the keeping,” said another woman. Mouse-brown hair, piled high on her head in a messy bun, Heather approached the small group, along with her husband Matt. She gave Nick a sly grin, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

 

Nick tried to keep the blush off his face, but it didn't seem to be working.

 

“No, I don't think so, either,” Janet put in, laughing as she joined them. Her strawberry blonde hair was braided away from her face, and her eyes sparkled with mirth – and the hope of juicy gossip.

 

Macy gave them another look. Her sharp eyes moved on from Renard's impressive height and the muscles shown through his shirt, to the way he stood angled towards Nick, and his eyes kept darting towards the younger man. Nick, she noticed, was also angled towards the tall stranger, and standing much closer to him than was usual between two men.

 

“Well,” she said, eyeing them speculatively, “I guess you're right.” She turned to Nick. “Wherever did you find him?” she asked. “And are there any others?”

 

“Uh,” Nick began. Unsure exactly how Macy, and all the other women, had determined that he and Sean were together. Sure, they had arrived together, but he doubted that any of these women had noticed that. And sure, they were standing together, but that could just mean they were friends. They weren't even holding hands! (something, he admitted silently to himself, that he was hoping to turn into a habit)

 

“Through work,” Sean replied smoothly. His hand dropped down to grasp Nick's, giving a gentle squeeze. Nick shot him a grin – around them, the women sighed.

 

“Actually,” Nick said, seeing no reason to lie about it. “Sean was my boss. Until just earlier in the week when I was officially transferred to be under the purview of another captain and therefore we were able to start darting.”

 

Heather whistled. “That must be some relationship you two have to change your work around,” she said. Giving Renard a speculative look, she added. “Although I can see where the appeal is.”

 

Blushing, Nick laughed. “Yeah,” he agreed.

 

Moving to get set up for the game, Nick soon found himself sitting on his picnic rug with Sean, lounging back against the taller man, who had one arm slung easily around Nick's waist. Around them, the rest of the team's parents and assorted others had gathered, the small group of women from earlier still cooing over how 'cute' they were as a couple.

 

“Seriously,” Janet said, eyes twinkling as she stared at them. “You must have been dating secretly before.” She waved her hand at them. “You're far too comfortable to have just started dating a few days ago.” Around her, there were a number of nods.

 

“What's this?” A freckled redhead asked, dumping her sports bag on the ground as her daughter ran past to join in the warm-up. Her face was flushed, having obviously been running late. “Did I hear right? Our most eligible bachelor is finally off the market?” She turned her curious gaze on Nick.

 

Rolling his eyes, Nick smiled up at her. “Hey Regan,” he said. “And yes, I'm afraid so.”

 

She pouted, plopping down onto the rug beside them and giving his shoulder a nudge with her own. “Shame,” she said, “I was slowly wearing you down.”

 

Nudging her back, Nick laughed. “If you say so,” he said. Sean's arm tightened around his waist, pulling Nick tighter against him. Nick shot Sean an amused look over his shoulder. “Relax,” he teased, “Regan's harmless. Besides, she's also happily married.”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow, turning his quizzical look on the redhead. Laughing, Regan leant back on her arms. “It's true,” she said. “Still, you can't blame a girl for trying. I mean, _phew_ ,” she fanned her face with her hand, “there's a reason he was unanimously dubbed our most eligible bachelor. And it's wasn't because of his job.” She paused. “Although that does help,” she added, “it'd help more if there was a uniform involved.”

 

Sean chuckled. “There is,” he said. Shifting, Nick elbowed him.

 

“Sean,” he warned.

 

“Really?” Macy asked, leaning forward in her camp chair. “Do tell.”

 

Sean shrugged. “While detectives don't wear their uniform day-to-day, they do have one for official occasions, as needed.”

 

“So do Police Captains,” Nick interjected, giving Sean a sweet smile full of fake innocence.

 

“Ooooh,” Macy breathed. “There's no chance of you sharing, is there?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at Nick and Sean.

 

“No, sorry, Macy,” Nick replied. He leant back against Sean, tilting his head up to give Sean a grin. The smirk Sean shot Macy was full of wry possessiveness and challenge. There was no way he was going to share. At all.

 

Out on the field, the warm-ups had finished, the teen girls running back towards the parents for a quick drink before the game started. Flinging himself upright, Nick tugged the lid off the large cooler they'd brought, tossing bottles of water to the girls.

 

“Nick!” they cried, huddling around him. Reaching out to ruffle hair and clasp shoulders in greeting, Nick laughed.

 

“Uncle Nick!” Holly exclaimed. She pressed up against him, plastered along his side in a half-hug that would also cover him in her scent. Sean raised an eyebrow, watching the teen's behaviour, still so influenced by her blutbad heritage and time alone in the woods.

 

A whistle blew, calling the girls back to the field. Tossing their water bottles back at Nick – who showed a rather impressive skill in managing to catch them all, tossing them into the cooler before snatching the next one out of the air, seemingly not even looking before catching them.

 

“Show off,” Sean muttered as Nick joined him back on the rug. Grinning, Nick widened his eyes as he glanced back at Sean, lips dipping into a pout. Shaking his head, Sean slipped his arm back around Nick's waist. “That won't work on me,” he said.

 

The game started, and it soon became apparent to Sean that Nick was not one to sit still and watch. At first he began to shift where he sat. Then his fingers began to tap against his leg. His foot started tapping after that.

 

Rolling his eyes, Sean gave him a shove. “Go then,” he said.

 

Springing to his feet, Nick shot Sean a brilliant grin, before jogging to the edge of the field. Sean watched, bemused, as Nick spent the rest of the game running up and down the field alongside the players.

 

At half-time, Nick jogged back to Sean, pulling the lid from the cooler as he once more tossed out drinks to the panting teens. Nick himself was breathing normally, as though he hadn't just been running up and down just as much as they had.

 

Monroe and Rosalee, who had arrived sometime during the game – Sean hadn't really been paying attention to them – dragged over one of the tables, catching the bags of oranges that Nick tossed to them.

 

Wandering over, Sean stepped up behind Nick, slipping his arms around the grimm's waist. Nick leant back into him for a moment, shooting him a grin over his shoulder, before grabbing one of the oranges and raising an eyebrow at Monroe.

 

“Oh, come on, man,” Monroe moaned. “You've got to be kidding me! How hard is it for you to remember to bring a knife?” Glancing around furtively, Monroe flicked his claws out.

 

Nick grinned. “Why would I do that when I get to watch you instead?” he asked.

 

The look Monroe gave him was completely unamused.

 

Rolling his eyes, Sean slipped his hand into his pocket, digging out the small blade he kept there before reaching round and pressing it into Nick's hand. Monroe grinned, claws sliding away.

 

Pouting, Nick glanced up at Sean.

 

“Ugh,” Holly said, pushing up next to them and scrunching her nose. “Mating later, food now.” Her eyes lit up as she spotted Monroe, bouncing over to greet him and Rosalee.

 

Blushing, Nick turned back to the oranges, swiftly slicing them into eighths which the teen girls descended on. Watching the girls run back to the field for the second half, Nick brought his hand up to his lips, licking at the orange juice that had spilled over his fingers.

 

Still behind him, Sean swallowed hard at the sight of Nick's forefinger disappearing between his lips and the hint of a pink tongue. Moving onto his middle finger, Nick pulled it out long enough to yell encouragement at a couple of the girls, completely oblivious as to the effect he was having on his fake boyfriend.

 

A trickle of juice ran down Nick's hand and onto his wrist, Sean's gaze dragging down with it.

 

“Oh, don't hold back on our account,” Macy called with a wink, shifting to get a better look. Glancing up at her, Sean's eyes narrowed at the appreciation in her gaze as she watched Nick. Frowning, Nick pulled his ring finger from his mouth with a pop.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

Leaning forward, Sean grabbed Nick's hand, drawing it back towards him and licking a stripe up his wrist that captured the drop of juice. Nick's breath left him in a whoosh, eyes fluttering closed. Automatically, he leant back, head falling back onto Sean's shoulder, neck a long, pale column.

 

Biting his lip, Nick held in the moan that sprang to his lips. Who knew having the Captain lick his wrist could feel so good? His skin tingled, sparks lighting up where Sean's tongue had been.

 

Then Sean's lips were on his little finger, drawing it into his mouth as he sucked and lapped up the sticky juice. Nick's lips parted, his hips tilting as he rolled his head on Sean's shoulder to watch his finger disappearing into the older man's mouth.

 

Giving Nick's finger once last suck, Sean drew it out, before laving Nick's palm with his tongue, catching a few errant drops of juice. Nick's thumb was drawn into his mouth next, tongue swirling around it as Sean cleaned it of any juice.

 

“O-kay,” Monroe declared. “That's enough, now. Time out. Calm down.”

 

Blinking his eyes open, Nick stared at Monroe. Behind his friend, he was dimly aware of a game going on.

 

Giving a final swipe to Nick's hand, Sean released it, grinning smugly as he instead twined his hand through Nick's, tugging him back towards the rug.

 

“Hoo boy,” Regan said, fanning at her face with a grin. “You could sell tickets. No, seriously, you could!”

 

It didn't take long before, without the distraction of Sean cleaning his hand with his mouth, Nick was back up and running alongside the game, yelling out encouragement as he went.

 

“He makes me feel so unfit,” Heather complained, watching Nick.

 

“You and me, both,” Janet replied. She eyed Nick as he spun on his heel, following as the puck changed directions. “Does he ever get tired?” she asked.

 

“Not that we've ever seen,” Regan replied. “Remember that game that went into overtime?”

 

Penny laughed. “I've never seen Holly so exhausted before,” she said. “She went home and went to bed – normally I'm just trying to wear her out enough so that she'll sit down.”

 

“And Mr no-longer-eligible-bachelor was calm as you can please,” Macy sniped, “he wasn't even a little winded!” She crossed her arms and pouted.

 

“Still,” said Regan, with a sly smirk at Sean. “Must make some things certainly interesting.” The attention of the women returned to Sean where he lounged on the picnic rug. Gazing back at them, he simply raised an eyebrow, waiting.

 

“Oh, come on,” Macy said, “share a little. What's he like in bed?”

 

“Macy!” Penny gasped.

 

“What?”

 

“I have to see him at times other than these games, you know,” she said. “I'd like to be able to do so without blushing.”

 

“Have you managed to make him pant?” Regan asked. “Only he seems to have a _lot_ of stamina.”

 

“He was panting before, wasn't he?” Heather put in, ducking the playful swipe from her husband for her comment.

 

“Oh, yes,” Regan agreed, flapping her hand at herself. “But who can blame him?”

 

“Certainly not me,” Macy agreed, eyeing Sean up.

 

Returning their interested gazes with a bland look, Sean waited until they began to turn away, before turning his own attention back to the game. And the rather nice fit of Nick's jeans as he ran.

 

*

 

Laughing, Nick made his way back over to Sean, arm slung around Holly's shoulders. Her team had won – barely, and she was flushed with the victory. Ducking out from under Nick's arm, she bounced over to Monroe.

 

“Did you see it, Monroe?” she asked, “did you see it?”

 

“Yeah, I saw it,” he said, cuffing her shoulder gently.

 

“You did well, Holly,” Penny said, drawing her daughter into a hug. Pressing into the hug, Holly rested her face against her mother's shirt, drawing in her scent.

 

“So, Nick,” Macy said, side-eyeing Sean as she stepped up to Nick. “Tell us,” her fingers tapped against his chest, making Nick look bemused. “You have incredible stamina at these games. I think we're all jealous of your ability to run around like that. Does that translate into other areas, too?” She tilted her head to the side, gazing up at him.

 

Nick blushed. Furiously. Considering the past few days he had had, he hardly thought he could be blamed for having his mind immediately go to an image of he and Sean bed – engaged in rather vigorous and extended activity. He swallowed.

 

Neatly moving into Nick's side, and dislodging Macy's fingers from him as he did so, Sean slipped his arm around Nick's waist.

 

“Well,” he said, “this has been rather an interesting morning so far. What do you have planned next?”

 

“I was thinking lunch,” Nick said.

 

Sean smiled. “I could eat,” he replied.

 

*

 

As Sean was loading the back of the truck with the blanket and cooler, Macy sidled up to Nick once more.

 

“I'm going to miss our chats,” she said, nudging his side gently.

 

Smiling, Nick nudged her back. “We can still talk,” he said.

 

She gave him a disbelieving look. “Please,” she said. “We spent our time discussing the relative merits of any joggers in our vicinity – who always came up short for you compared to your secret crush.” She grinned wickedly. “Although, now I can see why.”

 

“Macy -”

 

Waving one hand, she hushed him. “Oh, I know,” she said, “we'll still talk. But, somehow, I don't think you'll want to spent your time describing all the amazing attributes of your secret crush to me when you have the real thing in front of you.”

 

“I dunno,” Nick replied, “maybe he'd like that.”

 

Macy laughed. “This is why I like you,” she said. Giving him a pat on the chest, she turned to walk away. “Make sure you don't waste any of that,” she added, giving a significant look and eyebrow wiggle in Sean's direction.

 

Following her gaze, watching as Sean reached up to close the truck's trunk and his shirt rode up, Nick swallowed. Oh, he had no intention of wasting any of it.

 


	5. Day Four - part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick takes Sean out for lunch with some friends, they attend Carly's game, and then they have dinner with the royals. What fun.

 

“We still have all those baked goods at the apartment, don't we?” Nick asked, glancing over at Sean as they pulled out of the carpark.

 

“We do,” Sean agreed, shooting him a glance as he flicked on the indicator. “What are you thinking?”

 

Nick grinned, giving a shrug. “Just, you know, that we might want to grab some of them for lunch,” he said.

 

Sean hummed. He was certain that there was more to it than what the grimm was telling him. Still, seeing no reason not to humour him, Sean turned the truck towards the apartment.

 

*

 

Arriving at Sean's, Nick groaned to see the suited man sitting in the apartment foyer. More dignified than his chosen, Sean merely raised an eyebrow. Smoothly, Viktor rose to his feet, smoothing his suit down as he did so.

 

“Sean, Nick,” he said. The smile that crossed his face was somewhere between a grimace and a wince.

 

“Viktor,” Sean replied. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

 

Tugging at the ends of his suit jacket, Viktor forced his smile back onto his face. “I was informed that it may be prudent that I apologise to the both of you,” he said.

 

Nick raised an eyebrow. “That doesn't exactly sound like an apology,” he said.

 

Swallowing, Viktor gave a sharp nod. “My apologies,” he said, “I acted in a manner unbefitting of either my station or yours. I was overeager, and allowed that to cloud my judgement. All I can ask is that you do not allow my rash behaviour to prevent us from coming to an understanding or cultivating a civil and profitable relationship.”

 

Sean opened his mouth to respond, no doubt in the same formal language.

 

“Nice words,” Nick cut in, stepping forward so that he was placed slightly in front of Sean. He narrowed his gaze at Viktor, pushing the Grimm to the surface. “Thing is, I'm not really one for all these, court manners,” he waved his hand around as he spoke. “So allow me to say this plainly. Your apology is accepted – conditionally. Continue to annoy us, and we're going to have a problem.” His gaze narrowed further. “ _I'm_ going to have a problem,” he said.

 

“As will I,” Sean added, stepping up beside Nick.

 

Viktor pressed his lips together – no doubt to prevent himself from saying something he would regret. “I see,” he said. Giving a sharp nod, he turned on his heel, exiting the building.

 

Sean watched him go with a frown. “That must have rankled him,” he said. “Viktor is not one to suffer being made to wait.”

 

“Think Frederick is the one who suggested he apologise?” Nick asked.

 

“No-one else would have been able to get him to do so,” Sean replied. Drawing a breath, he turned to Nick, the smile he was forcing onto his face becoming more natural as he looked at the detective. “Now, didn't you want to grab something from the apartment?” he asked.

 

*

 

Once they had retrieved all perishable items which they had been left by the Eisbiber – and some of the non-perishable ones – and placed them into the truck (thus filling it), Nick hopped back into the driver's seat.

 

As Sean got in beside him, shutting the door, Nick turned to him with a grin. “Do you think they're watching?” he asked.

 

Sean raised an eyebrow, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Anything's possible,” he replied.

 

Still grinning, Nick leant towards him, reaching out to draw Sean in with a hand on the back of his neck. Their kiss was soft and gentle, more a friendly, comfortable greeting, than anything else. Settling back into his seat, hand sliding from Sean's neck, Nick flashed him a smile, before starting the car.

 

His lips tingled, despite the fairly chaste nature of their kiss. If he didn't already have plans, Nick would have been happy to simply sit in the truck for a while and make out with Sean as though they were still teenagers.

 

“Where are we are headed?” Sean asked, as Nick pulled out into traffic. Nick shot him a grin.

 

“Meeting up with some friends for lunch,” he replied.

 

“Do I know these friends?”

 

Nick hummed. “I think you've met some of them,” he replied.

 

“And what time is the next game we have to get to?”

 

“Carly's game's at 3 today,” Nick replied. “So we've plenty of time.”

 

Reaching over, Sean placed his hand on Nick's thigh. For a moment, Nick tensed, shock shooting through him, before all his leg muscles went lax. He swallowed.

 

Slowly, Sean began to rub his thumb against Nick's thigh, letting his other fingers drape down to brush against the inseam of his jeans.

 

“Where are we headed, Nick?” Sean asked. His other fingers began to move.

 

Swallowing once more, Nick focused on not driving them off the road. “Not far,” he replied. If his voice was a little breathier than usual, well, driving took a lot of concentration, didn't it?

 

Sean slid his hand a little higher up Nick's thigh. Nick's hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he made no other move or sound.

 

“Nick,” Sean said. “Tell me where we're headed.”

 

His hand crept higher, so close that Nick could feel the heat of his fingers against the crease of his groin – though not yet touching it.

 

“Not far,” he managed to get out. His lips were parted, cheeks flushed.

 

Glancing at the road, Sean frowned. He wanted to continue the game. To see just how far Nick would let him take it. Since they had started their fake relationship, Nick had denied him nothing. It was a somewhat intoxicating feeling to realise that.

 

Still, Sean _was_ a police caption. And he didn't want to cause an accident.

 

“You tell me where we're headed,” he said, “and I'll make it worth your while.”

 

The way Nick's knuckles turned white for a moment indicated that the grimm was not nearly as calm as he was trying to pretend.

 

“Oh yeah?” Nick asked. “How?”

 

“I'm sure you can think of something.”

 

The images that crossed Nick's mind at that moment were not ones he planned to share with the Captain. Ever. (Unless, of course, any of them came to be – then he might be willing to share).

 

Shaking his head, Nick turned the corner. He bit his lip, wondering whether to make Sean work for it harder. Offer more. Still, the offer he already had was tempting enough – and they were almost there.

 

“Promise?” he asked.

 

“Promise,” Sean agreed.

 

“We're heading down to Waterfront,” Nick replied.

 

“The park?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Like I said, we're meeting some friends for lunch.”

 

“Which part of the park?”

 

“Near the Burnside Bridge.”

 

“So near the market.”

 

Nick hummed in agreement. Sean frowned, trying to think who Nick was friends with who would enjoy the weekend arts and crafts market.

 

“And you say I've met some of them.” Sean paused. “Just how many people are we meeting up with?” he asked.

 

Nick shrugged. “I'm not entirely sure,” he replied, pulling the truck to a stop behind an old-looking van. “It can be different each time.”

 

Sean furrowed his brows, trying to fit together the puzzle that Nick was presenting him, having a niggling feeling that with just one more piece he'd be able to put it together. He was sure he recognised that van.

 

“Great,” Nick said, engaging the parking brake. “It looks like Barry's already here.”

 

“Barry?”

 

“Yeah.” Hopping out of the truck, Nick moved towards the back, Sean following him. Opening the trunk, Nick reached inside to grab one of the baskets of food when Sean halted him, hands on his hips. Spinning Nick around, Sean crowded him back against the truck.

 

“I think it's time you elaborated a little on what we're doing here,” he said, “don't you?” Pushing forward, he stepped between Nick's legs – which parted easily for him. Leaning down, Sean slid his lips along the curve of Nick's jaw, just letting them brush against the younger man's skin, until he reached his ear. “What are we doing here, Nick?” he asked, before giving the lobe of his ear a sharp tug with his teeth.

 

Gasping, Nick leant backwards, hands coming down onto the trunk of the truck, grasping tightly as he felt his knees weaken. It was entirely unfair the effect Renard had on him. Especially considering it was only a fake relationship. He'd had real relationships that hadn't affected him this much.

 

Grip tightening on Nick's hips, Sean helped steady him, a flash of pride shooting through him at the grimm's obvious discomposure.

 

Sean nibbled at the skin just beneath Nick's ear, before placing a kiss there and returning his lips to Nick's ear. “Who's Barry, Nick?” he asked.

 

“Barry,” Nick got out, “Barry Rabe. Jagerbar. We stopped him during an attempt at the Roh-hatz. He's out now, but with a number of community hours to serve.”

 

“Uh huh,” Sean agreed, vaguely remembering the case Nick referred to. “And this involves his community hours?” His lips grazed Nick's ear as he spoke, before dipping down to nibble the skin of his neck once more.

 

Nick groaned, before pushing Sean away from him.

 

Sean moved back easily, concerned and confused. It was the first time Nick had pushed him away or told him to stop – other than that heart-stopping moment when Sean had been afraid he was going to tell the entire Precinct it was all a ruse, and instead Nick had just been wanting to ensure that Sergeant Wu wasn't going to win another pot.

 

“Nick?” he asked.

 

“Sorry,” Nick said. His pupils were dilated, chest heaving as he drew in breath. “Just, not what I want to be doing while having this conversation.”

 

Drawing himself upright, Nick stepped away from the truck.

 

“You remember the Geiers?” he asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

“The kids they took,” Nick continued, stance returning to normal as the flush of having Sean pressed against him faded. “They were homeless. One of the city's community hours programs involves outreach to the homeless community.”

 

“And, of course,” Sean finished for him. “You kept in touch with those kids.”

 

Nick shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. Sean shook his head, but couldn't help but think that that was just like Nick. Befriending homeless kids, and blutbads, and agreeing to fake date his then boss.

 

“Detective,” a cheerful voice called.

 

“Barry,” Nick replied with a grin, stepping past Sean to clap the young jagerbar on the shoulder. “And it's Nick, remember?”

 

Barry just grinned back at him, giving a soft shake of his head. There was a respect in the jagerbar's eyes that Sean found both gratifying, and reassuring. Whatever else the jagerbar had taken away from his first meeting with the grimm, he certainly didn't pose any threat any longer.

 

“T.B. and Jason should be here in a moment,” Barry said, grabbing two baskets from the back of the truck. He shook his head as he surveyed the contents. “What did you do this time?” he asked.

 

Nick rolled his eyes. “Nothing,” he said.

 

“Uh huh. The Eisbiber Lodge doesn't just give these out automatically,” Barry replied. “You had to have done something.” Then he paused, giving Nick another look. “Then again,” he said, “it _is_ you, perhaps you didn't have to do anything.”

 

“What's the grimm done now?” Asked a newcomer.

 

“Nothing,” Nick replied, as a third jagerbar joined them. He motioned between them. “Barry, Jason, T.B, this is Sean Renard, my chosen. Sean, T.B., Jason and Barry.”

 

Jason's eyebrows rose and he whistled. “Done nothing, huh,” he said, smirking.

 

Nick gave him a gentle shove, before pushing a basket of food into his hands. Laden down, the young men turned to head back the way they had come. Still, they weren't quite far enough away that they weren't heard when they decided to comment.

 

“Hey,” said T.B., “at least he'd be enjoying his 'service'.”

 

“Shut up T.B.,” Barry replied. “He'll hear us. And it's none of our business.”

 

“It's everyone's business when the Prince decides to claim to a Chosen,” Jason said. “I can't believe he chose Nick.”

 

“Why?” Barry scoffed, “as if you wouldn't, given half a chance.”

 

“Of course I would,” Jason agreed. “But still, the Prince?”

 

Their voices faded as they continued away from them. Going to take a step back, Nick found Sean standing so close that if he breathed in deeply he would brush against him. The Prince was frowning.

 

“What?” Nick asked.

 

Sean's glare transferred to Nick. “Just what is your relationship with those jagerbars?” he asked.

 

Rolling his eyes, Nick hip-checked Sean out of the way so that he could grab more of the food. “I meet up with them to hand out supplies to a group of homeless kids,” he said, “and we all hang out and chat.” Pausing, he looked up at Renard. “You're not jealous, are you?” he asked.

  
Sean scoffed. “Of course not,” he said. Grabbing two baskets, Sean spun on his heel, heading off in the direction the young men had gone. Shaking his head, Nick watched him go. He couldn't help the small suspicion that perhaps Sean was lying. Perhaps he _was_ jealous.

 

“Nick!” Gracie jogged up to him with a smile on her face.

 

“Hey Gracie,” he replied, passing her the basket he was holding. “How are you?”

 

She gave a small shrug. “Doing okay,” she said. Hanson, sullen as ever (well slightly less, but you could hardly tell), slunk up behind her.

 

“Hanson,” Nick greeted, passing him another basket.

 

Hanson shook his head. “What did you do?” he asked, “rob a bakery?”

 

Nick laughed. “Firstly,” he said, “I think my colleagues would have a thing or two to say about it if I managed to do something like that. Second, no – these were all gifts from friends.”

 

“You must have a lot of friends,” Keith said as he joined them. Gracie grabbed hold of his hand, grinning at him.

 

“Just some who are very eager to cook at the slightest opportunity,” Nick replied. As he spoke, Sean returned, the three jagerbars following behind him and appearing slightly unsure as to just how to act around their Prince.

 

Gracie, Hanson and Keith, of course, didn't have problem.

 

“Who's this?” Hanson asked, scowling at Sean.

 

Reaching out, Nick gave the teen a light nudge. “The reason for all of this,” he replied, indicating the small mountain of food. “Hanson, Gracie, Keith, this is Sean, my lover. He was also involved in helping rescue you guys.”

 

“Thank you,” Gracie said. She looked, for a moment, as though she wanted to fling her arms around Sean and hug him. However, as she had a basket of food in one hand, and Keith's hand grasped in her other, she managed to refrain.

 

“You're welcome,” Sean replied. Reaching into the truck, he handed out more baskets.

 

“Hang on,” said Keith, “how is Sean the reason for all this?”

 

“Well,” said Nick, ignoring the way Sean was practically standing on top of him. “When Bud found out that Sean and I were officially dating -”

 

“It's possible to unofficially date?” Hanson asked.

 

Nick shrugged. Sean slipped his arm around Nick's waist. “We knew we wanted to date,” Nick explained, “but as Sean was the my boss...”

 

“Woah,” said Keith. “Banging the boss. Nice.”

 

A strangled sound came from the direction of the jagerbars. Glancing at them, Nick noticed that all three appeared somewhat panicked (though they hid it well), and were gaining blushes. He wasn't sure whether it was from the casual and somewhat crude way that Keith spoke about their Prince having sex, or the fact that Sean's hand had moved lower on his waist – well, it wasn't really on his waist any more at all.

 

A few more kids came over to them, calling greetings to Nick as they grabbed up the remaining baskets.

 

“Man, we're gonna be full for ages!” one of them said.

 

“That's the idea,” Nick replied. “Is the area set up?”

 

“Yeah,” Barry said, eyes darting to Nick and away from Sean. Frowning, Nick glanced over his shoulder at Sean, but the older man simply smiled down at him. Still, Nick couldn't quite get rid of the idea that Sean was not smiling at the jagerbars.

 

Stepping away from the truck, he pulled the trunk down, before giving Sean's hand a squeeze (and moving it up from his rear to settle back on his hip). “Relax,” he muttered.

 

In response, Sean turned his face towards Nick, placing a kiss along the line of his throat.

 

*

 

They settled down on the grass near a few trees near the bridge. On the other side of the bridge (though still this side of the water), the Saturday Market was in full swing.

 

As the teens made themselves comfortable on the grass, they were soon joined by others, along with a number of older teens and young adults. Each one greeted Nick, who seemed to know them by name.

 

“Man, Nick,” one said, surveying the food, “this is even more than last time.”

 

“A gift,” Sean replied, “celebrating Nick and my relationship.”

 

The young man whistled, grabbing a small bread bun. “In that case,” he said, “can I strongly encourage your marriage sometime in the near future?”

 

“Rick! You can't ask that!” a girl near him hissed. There was laughter and good-natured teasing.

 

Leaning back against the grass, long legs stretched out, Sean watched Nick, smiling at the way he greeted all those who spoke to him. Nick was a natural at this. At connecting with people. Getting them to like him. To want to please him.

 

And, Sean had to admit, he wasn't immune to Nick's charms, either.

 

Reaching out, he slipped his fingers between Nicks, gaining a quick grin from the grimm. Fixing his gaze back on the three jagerbars, Sean narrowed his eyes. They swallowed, fidgeting. He allowed a small smirk to cross his face.

 

Turning to Sean, Nick caught his look, following his eyeline to see Barry, T.B. and Jason looking rather uncomfortable. He gave a tug on Sean's hand.

 

“Relax,” he repeated. “They're fine.” He grinned. “Besides, you're acting like you're jealous.”

 

Sean turned his scowl on Nick. “And if I am?” he asked.

 

Nick laughed. “You've got nothing to be jealous of,” he replied. “Besides, I'm with you, aren't I?”

 

Was he? Sean wondered. Yes, Nick had agreed to fake date him. But when would that end? When Frederick and Viktor left Portland? Earlier, when Nick decided he no longer wanted the hassle of playing along? Or when he found someone he wanted to date for real?

 

Sean had no doubt that, should Nick show any interest at all, he'd have a line of prospective partners stretching out the door.

 

“You are mine,” Sean agreed, pulling Nick towards him. Leaning down, he claimed the grimm's lips in a kiss, pushing his tongue into the grimm's mouth, mapping it out by feel.

 

With a soft groan, Nick shifted closer to Sean, hand coming up to wrap around Sean's shoulder and steady himself.

 

A chorus of wolf-whistles rang out, amid clapping and whoops.

 

Blushing, Nick pulled back from Sean, turning to look at the exuberant youth around them. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, flapping his hand at them. “Calm down. It was just a kiss.”

 

“Oh, but what a kiss,” Gracie called out, grinning when he shot her a look.

 

One of the kids pulled out a frisbe, tossing it in the air to gather the attention of those around her, before starting up a game nearby. Giving Sean a quick peck, Nick jumped to his feet, joining in the game.

 

Leaning back, Sean watched him, content to let the rare sunshine soak into his skin and warm him, while allowing his eyes to roam freely over Nick's body as he moved.

 

*

 

At two o'clock, Nick called everyone back together, monitoring the distribution of the remaining food amongst them. Then, calling goodbyes and well-wishes, the crowd slowly dispersed.

 

Strolling back towards the truck. Sean left his arm brush against Nick's as they walked.

 

“We're being watched again,” he said. Nick hummed, giving a nod.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “He followed us from the apartment.” Sean gave him a look.

 

“You weren't worried about leading him here?” he asked. Admittedly, he'd been aware of their tail since entering the park, and this was the first he was mentioning it, but he had been certain Nick had already noticed, and now seemed a good time to bring it up.

 

Nick shrugged. “I've been doing this long enough,” he said, “that anyone looking into me would be able to find out. So why deprive all those kids of some food and fun when they're most likely going to know about me coming here anyway?”

 

Agreeing, Sean climbed into the truck. “Still,” he said, “I'm surprised they all came so willingly.”

 

“They didn't at first,” Nick admitted. “But after what happened, Gracie and Hanson trusted me. Gracie brought Keith, and then it just kinda grew from there.”

 

Sean shook his head. “Not that,” he said, “I'm not surprised at all at you being able to get a bunch of homeless kids to trust you.” He gave Nick a fond look. “No, I'm surprised they were willing to take so much time out of a Saturday, even with free food. It's one of the best days for work and spare change, particularly with the Market.”

 

The way Nick bit his lip had Sean both curious and slightly wary.

 

“Nick?” he asked.

 

With a sigh, Nick answered. “The patrols of the Market always happen between one and two on a Saturday afternoon.”

 

“So you gather them all away from the Market during that time to feed them, and ensre they don't get caught,” Sean replied. “Hank's right, you really are a softie.”

 

*

 

Having made a quick stop at the house in order to load up more water and oranges, they headed out to the field where Carly's game was that afternoon.

 

Much like Holly's game that morning, they arrived to see parents and siblings setting up places to sit and watch the game in the shade, while the team members did warm ups.

 

Glancing around as he exited the truck, Sean spotted Hank talking to another man. No doubt the father of Carly.

 

“Come on,” Nick said, leading Sean over to them. Reaching over, Sean snatched the picnic rug from where Nick had precariously balanced it on top of the cooler.

 

“Nick, Captain,” Hank called with a grin as he spotted them.

 

“Hank,” Sean replied. “I think you can call me Sean when we're off duty.”

 

“Yeah,” Hank said, “that's gonna take some getting used to.”

 

“Hank. Jarold,” Nick said, nodding at the man with Hank. “This is Sean Renard, my chosen. Sean, Carly's father, Jarold.”

 

“A pleasure,” Sean said, holding his hand out for a shake.

 

Swallowing, Jarold accepted his hand. “Sire,” he replied.

 

“Sean,” Sean corrected. “You're a friend of Nick's.”

 

“Yes.” Jarold nodded, glancing towards the field. “He helped save Carly.”

 

“He tends to do that.”

 

“Okay,” Nick said, “that's enough talking about me as though I'm not here.”

 

“Oh, but we were just getting started,” Hank replied.

 

Nudging his partner out of the way, Nick dumped the cooler onto the ground.

 

“By the way,” Hank added. “Heads up. Beth's here.”

 

Nick groaned.

 

“Beth?” Sean asked.

 

“Beth is Nick's number one fan,” Hank replied with a grin.

 

“Try stalker,” Nick replied. Sean's eyebrows rose.

 

The circuitous route Nick had taken to Carly's game had rid them of their shadow, he hardly wanted to pick up another one.

 

“Now, now,” Hank said. “You can't really call her a stalker when she hasn't followed you home yet.”

 

“Don't tempt fate,” Nick replied. “She's done everything else.”

 

“Everything?” Sean asked, a note of warning in his voice.

 

“She's harmless,” Jarold quickly said, looking worried that Sean was about to do something drastic. “Well, mostly,” he added, with a grimace in Nick's direction. “She just won't accept that Nick isn't interested in her.”

 

“Hmmm,” Sean agreed. Unrolling the picnic rug, he spread it out over the ground, before grabbing Nick's hand and tugging him down onto it. “Then perhaps we'd better make sure she's aware he's taken.”

 

“Oh, he's tried,” Hank said. “Given her all these speeches about how he doesn't like her like that, how he's got a crush on someone else, and that that person isn't even female. So really, thanks but no thanks. He's as off the market as you can get when hopelessly in love with someone who consumes all your thoughts and fantasies...” Hank's voice trailed off and he made a horrified face. “Which would be you,” he said, staring wide-eyed at the Captain. “And now I can't unthink that.” He shuddered, transferring his glare to Nick. “It's a good thing I like you, partner, but you could have warned me.”

 

Sean felt a rush of _something_ wash through him at Hank's words. Hank may think that Nick had been talking about Sean, but Sean knew that their relationship was all pretend. Which meant that Nick was in love with someone else.

 

His chest felt tight and he wanted to destroy something. Instead, curling his arm around Nick, he drew him closer to him, as though somehow, by holding Nick tightly, he could keep the grimm with him and away from this other person.

 

Settling comfortably back against Sean, blushing brightly, Nick refused to look at Hank. He knew that his partner was giving him a judging look, but really, it wasn't like Nick had expected Sean to ask him to fake date him.

 

“Nicky!”

 

The high-pitched cry had Sean turning his head to see a woman headed towards them. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black, pulled back from her face into a low ponytail. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and wearing runners. A broad smile stretched across her lips. She was, Sean decided, unfortunately pretty.

 

Unfortunate in that he had been hoping she wasn't.

 

Nick sighed. “Beth,” he said, tone flat.

 

Coming to a stop before them, Beth smiled down at him. “I'm so glad you were able to make it,” she said, as though Nick being there was somehow for her, rather than for Carly.

 

Pressing his lips together, Nick refused to reply. Sean's arm tightened around Nick, Sean angling his body towards Nick's in a blatant display of possession, free hand coming up to twine with Nick's.

 

“I don't believe we've met,” Sean said, faux-politely. “I'm Sean, Nick's chosen.”

 

“Beth,” Beth replied, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. She shook her head. “You do a good job,” she said, “but I know you're faking.”

 

Forcing himself not to react, Sean simply raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh?” he asked.

 

“Of course,” Beth replied, giving her hair a flick. “Nicky's in love with me.”

 

Sean blinked. He turned to Nick with a frown. “You didn't tell me she was delusional,” he said.

 

With a huff, Beth stomped her foot. “I'm not delusional,” she said. “Nicky keeps coming to these games, even though he doesn't have a child in them, in order to see me.” She gave Sean a superior smirk, as though she had somehow gained a point against him.

 

Feeling his hackles rise, Sean shot her a tight smile full of warning. “Really?” he said, before turning to Nick once more. “Didn't you tell me you came to these games to watch Carly?” he asked.

 

“I do,” Nick agreed. “As I have explained to Beth on multiple occasions.”

 

“Perhaps she's a little slow,” Sean said. “If that's the case, we can't blame her too much.”

 

“I am _not_ slow!” Beth declared. “Nicky's told me all about his crush on me.” She ignored the incredulous looks she was given. “Oh, I know he said it was on a guy. Taller than him. Strong. Commanding.” She tilted her head to the side. “All the opposite of me. Exactly the opposite – which just goes to show that he was deliberately trying not to let on that I am the object of his affection.”

 

“Have you considered medication?” Sean asked, voice serious. Hank choked. Biting his lip, Nick turned his face against Sean's chest to hide his smile.

 

Pulling Nick practically onto his lap, Sean let his lips brush over the top of the grimm's head. He peered up at Beth as he did so, feeling a thrill of delight as her lips pursed in annoyance.

 

“I've told you Beth,” Nick said, once he had himself under control. “I'm not interested.”

 

“You haven't even tried,” Beth replied. “So how would you know.”

 

Sighing, Nick leant back against Sean. “No is no,” he said firmly. “Goodbye Beth.”

 

She took a step forward. “I'd make it so good for you,” she said.

 

Holding his hand out, Hank interjected himself between her and Nick. “That's enough, Beth,” he said. “Nick's right. No is no. I think it's time you left.”

 

Beth glared at Hank, before turning her on heel and stalking off.

 

“Why haven't you arrested her?” Sean asked.

 

Nick sighed. “She hasn't actually done anything,” he said. “She just talks.”

 

“Talking is doing something,” Sean told him. Hands smoothing over Nick's shoulders and down his arms, Sean leant forward, breathing in Nick's scent where it pooled along his neck and the base of his throat.

 

Flicking his tongue out, he gave Nick a quick lick, before kissing the flesh beneath his lips. Head rolling to the side, Nick stretched his neck out for Sean. If he noticed that Sean had his eyes focused on where Beth had retreated to – and was glaring at them from – well, Nick decided not to say anything.

 

Kissing his way down Nick's neck, Sean placed his lips over the curve where neck met shoulder, and sucked.

 

“Just remember there are kids here,” Hank said, taking a seat beside them on the rug. Nick grunted a reply, tilting his head further to the side.

 

Sean hummed, using teeth and tongue to ensure that Nick would be marked for all to see. It may only be pretend. And he may not know just how much time he would have with the grimm. But for now, there would be no doubt that the grimm was his.

 

Finally leaning back, Sean surveyed his work. Already, a large patch of skin on Nick's neck was beginning to darken.

 

*

 

After that, the rest of the game passed much the same as Holly's game had in the morning. Nick greeted Carly, and was greeted back, enthusiastically. He raced alongside the field once they started playing, keeping pace with the players and calling out encouragement.

 

When he wasn't running around, he was leaning back against Sean on the rug, snuggling in close and playing with the taller man's fingers.

 

Or, he was tossing out drinks and oranges (Hank stole the knife from Nick, saying something about having been warned by Monroe – Sean was rather disappointed as he'd been looking forward to watching Nick clean the juice off his fingers once more).

 

“Looking good, Nick, as always,” a woman said, approaching them as they were beginning to pack up.

 

“Hey Mariette,” Nick replied, flashing her a quick grin. Standing behind him, Sean slipped his arms around the grimm's waist, tugging him back against his chest. Nick shot Sean a bemused look, but didn't protest.

 

Mariette smiled at them. “I'm glad you've managed to catch your guy,” she said, before smirking. “And now I see why you're so hung up on him.”

 

She wasn't the only one. A number of others approached to offer Nick and Sean their congratulations, including Carly.

 

“Uncle Nick,” she said, stepping up to him with a grin. “You didn't tell me you were dating.”

 

Nick smiled. “I thought you might have heard,” he said.

 

“Oh?” Carly tilted her head to the side, before her eyes widened. “The Prince?!” she gasped. “You're dating the Prince?!” Then, mortified, she flung her hand over her mouth, sending Sean a mortified look. “I mean, Sire,” she said, dipping her head towards him.

 

“Sean,” Sean replied. “And yes, we're dating. Nick is my Chosen.”

 

“Wow,” Carly muttered. She shook her head. “Well, at least you chose well,” she added to Nick with a cheeky grin.

 

Carly gave Nick a quick hug before they left. “I think you've found a keeper,” she told him.

 

*

 

As they were loading up the truck with the picnic blanket and empty cooler, Sean's phone rang. Reluctantly, he stepped back from Nick so that he could pull the phone from his pocket, answering the call.

 

“Yes,” he said.

 

“Sean,” Frederick said. “how are you.”

 

“Enjoying a relatively Viktor-free day,” he replied.

 

“You saw him?”

 

“He apologised.”

 

“Good,” Frederick said. He paused. “I was hoping you'd be open to meeting once more,” he said, “perhaps this evening, for dinner.”

 

Sean glanced over at Nick, pursing his lips. “Perhaps,” he said. “I'm afraid today has been organised by Nick, so I'll have to check with him.”

 

Nick, who had been listening in on the conversation, raised his eyebrows at Sean. Sean tilted his head to the side. Nick frowned, but nodded.

 

“Very well,” Sean said. “Dinner would be acceptable. So long as Viktor continues to behave himself.”

 

“He will,” Frederick assured him. “Shall we say 7pm? Castagna's?”

 

“We'll meet you there,” Sean replied.

 

*

 

They returned to Nick's house, silently deciding that it was better not to tempt fate by returning to Sean's apartment. Neither man had any desire to meet up with Sean's family any earlier than they had to.

 

Carrying the things in the from the car, Nick released a sigh of relief. Sean gave him a look.

 

“Thank you,” he said.

 

Pausing in cleaning and putting away the cooler, Nick turned to face him. “What for?” he asked.

 

“For helping me,” Sean replied. “You didn't have to do this.”

 

“As I seem to recall,” Nick replied, “it's not just helping you – it's helping me, too. Plus, let's be honest, it really hasn't been that bad so far.”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow.

 

Nick shrugged. “Well,” he said. “Admittedly, Frederick and Viktor are getting on my nerves, but, apart from that, it's been... nice.”

 

“Even the mugs from Wu?”

 

Nick laughed. “Even the mugs from Wu,” he agreed. “It means he loves us.”

  
Sean made a face.

 

*

 

Evening fell quickly, and before they knew it, it was time for prepare for dinner. Standing in front of his wardrobe, surveying his clothing, Nick frowned.

 

“What is it?” Sean asked, walking into the room as he did up the buttons on his lilac dress shirt. Nick shot him a glance – which lingered, the grimm's mouth going dry as he noticed Sean's state of undress. “Nick?” Sean asked.

 

Giving himself a shake, Nick turned back to his wardrobe. “Just wondering what to wear,” he said. “I've really only got the one good suit.”

 

Sean smiled. “No problem,” he replied. “In fact, I was going to suggest that you wear the green tie again. It might just manage to make Viktor combust.”

 

Nick shot him a confused look, but pulled out his suit. He sighed. “I'd really like to take them to a good, Portland-grown, food cart,” he said.

 

Sean chuckled, reaching around Nick – brushing up against him as he did so – to add the tie to Nick's pile of clothing. “Somehow,” he said, “I doubt either my father or Viktor would be willing to go along with it.”

 

“Kind of why I want to make them,” Nick replied. Shrugging off his sweater, he moved over to drape his suit across the foot of the bed. Shirt done up, Sean leant back against the wardrobe to watch as Nick, completely unselfconscious about it, began to strip.

 

“Hopefully,” said Sean. “Whatever plans they have, they will begin to allude to them tonight.”

 

Nick grimaced, pausing with his suit pants in his hands – shirt on but unbuttoned. “Viktor's entirely unsubtle hints aren't part of their plan?” he asked.

 

Sean shrugged. “I'm sure they're part of Viktor's plan,” he said. “But I doubt that my father is counting on Viktor to seduce you away from me. Despite his lack of care when I was younger, he has always had somewhat of a soft spot for me – if you can call the way he uses my accomplishments to drive the rest of the family mad as he compares them to me, a soft spot.”

 

Nick hummed in agreement, pulling on his pants and beginning to do up his shirt. “What do you think their plan is?” he asked.

 

“I'm not sure.” Sighing, Sean stepped forward, pushing Nick's hands out of the way as the younger man began to make a mess of his tie. Tilting his head back automatically to allow Sean access, Nick swallowed as he felt Sean's hands brush against his neck.

 

“So, how do you want me to handle things?” Nick asked.

 

Stepping back, Sean gave the grimm a once-over. Nick looked elegant, yet good enough to eat. He smiled. “Just do what you did last time,” he said. “Be polite, act as though there is nothing you want more than to be with me, and listen for anything they may let drop in conversation.” He gave Nick a look. “You're one of Portland's best detectives – use that to try and get information from them. But be careful. Both are used to the politics of royalty, and will try and do the same to you.”

 

“So, ask questions, but don't answer any,” Nick said, giving a nod. “I can do that.”

 

*

 

They pulled up to _Castagna's_ with five minutes left until seven. Upon entering the restaurant, Sean spoke briefly to their waiter, before they were shown to the private dining room. Frederick and Viktor were waiting for them.

 

Viktor stood as they approached, while Frederick remained seated.

 

“Sean, Nick,” Viktor said. “A pleasure to see you again.”

 

“Viktor,” Sean replied, “father.”

 

“Please, have a seat,” Frederick offered.

 

As they sat, Nick shifting his chair slightly so that it was closer to Sean's, he surveyed the two royals. Both were impeccably dressed, but, with how Sean often dressed, and what he knew of them, Nick had been expecting that.

 

Frederick sat with an air of calm around him. As though he was completely in control and expected everyone else to acknowledge that fact. He expected to get what he wanted.

 

Viktor, on the other hand, appeared tense. Not agitated – not yet, but not calm either. Nick could only guess that the way they had rebuffed Viktor over the past couple of days was playing a role in that. Not to mention his forced apology earlier that day. For some reason, Viktor's gaze kept going to back to Nick's tie – getting darker each time.

 

“I've taken the liberty of ordering for us,” Frederick informed them.

 

Seeing Sean's lips thin a little, Nick gave a disarming smile. “That's okay,” he said, “usually if I don't like something, Sean does, so I'll just give it to him.” He shot Sean a smile.

 

Sean smiled back. Viktor scowled.

 

“I was surprised,” he said, leaning forward to look straight at Nick, deliberately excluding Sean, “to learn that you were a police officer.”

 

“Detective,” Sean corrected mildly. “Nick's one of our best detectives.”

 

“That may be,” Viktor said, still looking straight at Nick. “However, I find it strange that a grimm would engage in an occupation so beneath him.” It went unsaid that he also thought Sean's occupation not one to aspire to, either.

 

“I find I tend to surprise people,” Nick replied. “What do you do?”

 

“Do?” Viktor asked.

  
“Yes. For work.” Nick smiled at him, although his smile included the whole table.

 

Viktor frowned. “I am a Prince,” he said, “I have no need to work.”

 

“Isn't that boring? Just sitting at home all day.”

 

“When your home is a castle,” Viktor replied, “you'll find that not many things are boring.”

 

“Still, you have to do something,” Nick said. “Hobbies? Things you take care of for the King? Public engagements, that kind of thing?”

 

“There are a number of responsibilities involved with being a Prince,” Frederick said. “Especially for a Crown-Prince, as Viktor is now.” He gave Viktor a look that suggested he was unhappy with how the prince had been focusing his entire attention on Nick.

 

“Like what?” Nick asked, shifting the majority of his attention to Frederick.

 

“You have mentioned some of them,” Frederick replied. “But a prince, any royal, really, needs to be actively involved in monitoring and protecting the people. They sometimes need a firm hand, you see, and it is our job to ensure they receive it.”

 

“I've always thought it strange,” Nick said, “the idea that someone could inherit a position of power.”

 

“Have you not inherited just such a position?” Frederick asked. “After all, you inherited your status as a grimm.”

 

“You think so?” Nick asked.

  
Sean shook his head. “Nick inherited the abilities of a grimm,” he said, “not the status. That, he earnt. If he hadn't, he would have been dead by now. Killed by a Reaper.”

 

“And after you tried so hard to ensure they couldn't enter your territory,.” Viktor said.

 

“I do hope they enjoyed the present we sent them,” Nick interjected. “I thought it appropriate after the one Sean had originally provided them with.” He smiled calmly.

 

Sean's hand dropped to Nick's thigh, squeezing in approval. Taking a sip of his drink, Nick hid his grin.

 

The waiter arrived with their starters.

 

Talk moved to slightly less volatile topics, but it soon became apparent to Nick that Viktor was still trying to feel him out. To encourage Nick to elsewhere by subtly putting down Sean, and promoting Viktor himself.

 

As Nick continued to mildly rebuff Viktor's comments, the royal pain became more and more pointed with said comments.

 

“I did hear something troubling about some coins,” he said, as they were just tucking into their deserts. “The coins of Zakynthos. Didn't they come into your possession?” He gave Nick a blatant once-over. “You do not appear to be unduly affected by them. However, I did hear that my dear cousin was not so fortunate, and was, in fact, much the worse for wear.”

 

Sean felt his muscles seize up, even as he forced himself to continue moving his spoon to his mouth, to not let on how much Viktor's comments bothered him.

 

“Viktor -” Frederick began.

 

Nick moaned. It wasn't a mortified, embarrassed, or I-can't-believe-you-went-there moan. He moaned as though he was suddenly, incredibly, aroused. Sean's attention snapped to Nick.

 

Ducking his head, a truly spectacular blush blooming across his cheeks, Nick muttered a “Sorry,” to his plate.

 

Sean frowned. “Nick?” he asked.

 

Glancing up, head still partially ducked so that he was looking up at Sean through his eyelashes, Nick swallowed, and licked his lips.

 

“It's just,” he said, “Viktor's mention of the coins.” A pause. Another lick of his lips, which then parted, as though unable to stay completely closed. “It made me remember – the uniform.”

 

“The uniform?” Sean asked. He wasn't sure exactly where his grimm was going with this conversation, although he had high hopes that it would once more put Viktor in his place.

 

Nick nodded, giving a rueful smile. “Yeah,” he said. “You turned up to work in your official uniform,” he said, a breathy note entering his voice. “There was a reason I tried to avoid you as much as possible that day, and it wasn't the coinss – I was afraid I'd jump you if given half a chance.”

 

“The uniform?” Sean repeated. Despite the fact that part of his mind was intently informing him that Nick was simply playing things up for his family. Playing the part of the doting, infatuated boyfriend, the majority of his mind was suddenly spinning with possibilities.

 

“The uniform,” Nick agreed. He glanced at Frederick and Viktor. “My apologies,” he said. “I should not have brought it up.

 

“No need,” Frederick replied. “It is obvious that you care for my son very much.”

 

“I do,” Nick agreed.

 

“Besides,” Frederick added, “you didn't bring it up, Viktor did.”

 

Sean shook his head, still stuck on the image of himself, in his uniform in his office. Nick entered, shutting and locking the door behind him, and then proceeding to 'jump' Sean with great enthusiasm. “You never mentioned that you liked the uniform,” he said. “If you had, I could have worn it for you.”

 

Nick's lips parted once more, the flush that had been receding from his cheeks quickly returning. He swallowed. Hard. Before snatching up his drink and taking a gulp. “I don't know,” he said. “The things I have planned – I don't think your uniform could survive them all intact.” He leant closer to Sean, as though he'd forgotten all about the other two diners.

 

“I'm sure I could get it replaced if needed,” Sean replied. “All you have to do is ask.”

 

“Yes please. Sir.” Nick replied, peering up at Sean from under his lashes. A bolt of lust shot through Sean, making his grip on his knife tighten until his knuckles were white – and he thought perhaps he should conveniently misplace the piece of cutlery just in case it now had his finger-prints etched into it.

-

Viktor cleared his throat harshly, caused Sean and Nick to turn to look at him. His mouth was tightened into a thin line, a muscle jumping on his forehead. Pressing into Sean's grip on his thigh, Nick silently congratulated himself on a job well done (he ignored the niggling thought that, really, he hadn't actually had to act at all for that one).

 

*

 

Viktor cornered Nick as they were exiting the restaurant, crowding him towards the wall. A quick glance showed Nick that Sean was acutely aware of his situation, and ready to come to his aid if need be.

 

Giving a soft shake of his head to let Sean know he was all right, he focused on Viktor.

 

“You will be mine,” Viktor said, leaning in close. Nick wrinkled his nose at the other man's breath.

 

“I don't think so,” he replied.

 

“You will,” Viktor insisted. “All that's left to decide is the way in which you become mine. You can come easily – I will reward you greatly. And have far more to offer than this backwater town and my bastard half-cousin. Or, you can continue to resist, and I will be forced to take things into my own hands.”

 

“Somehow,” said Nick. “I feel like we've already had this conversation. As I said then, you have nothing to offer me that is in any way tempting. Particularly not when placed beside that which your cousin offers.”

 

Viktor snarled.

 

“Now, if you'll excuse me, Viktor.” Nick made to move past him.

 

Viktor's hand shot out, gripping tight onto Nick's bicep. “You,” he said, “should call me, 'my Prince', for that is what I am to you. And you will not leave until I allow you to.”

 

“You are _not_ my prince,” Nick replied. Reaching up, he grabbed Viktor's hand, prying it from his arm and roughly shoving it away from him.

 

Viktor stepped forward angrily, to be stopped by Frederick's words.

 

“Viktor?” the King said. “What are you doing?” His voice was mild, but there was a warning in his tone that it was impossible to mistake.

 

Stepping back, Viktor turned to Frederick. “Just saying good night to the grimm,” he said.

 

“Yes,” Frederick said. “Well, good night, Nick, it was lovely to be able to spend this time together. If you'll excuse us, Viktor and I need to leave now.” The look he shot Viktor was not impressed.

 

“Of course,” Nick replied. “Sean and I should be going, also. It was lovely to have a chance to talk with you again, too, Frederick.”

 

Turning, Nick moved over to where Sean was waiting, answering the Captain's searching look with a quick grin and a nod.

 

“So, oh Captain, my Captain,” Nick said, coming to a halt before him and grinning cheekily up at him. “Time for bed?”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow, but let his hands settle easily onto Nick's hips as Nick looped his arms around Sean's neck. “If that is your wish,” he said.

 

Nick hummed. “Oh,” he said. “I thought we'd go with your wishes tonight. My Prince.”

 

Sean swallowed, eyes darkening. Nick was so focused on that, that he almost missed the sudden stiffness in Viktor's frame as he moved past them to the exit. Score another one for Nick and Sean.

 

*

 

Sean's phone rang as they were climbing into the car. A quick conversation later, and he was making his apologies to Nick.

 

“Hey,” Nick said, “no problem. You're the Captain, I get it.” He smiled. “I'll drop you at the station, then meet you at the apartment.”

 

Sean nodded. “Sounds good,” he said. “Oh, by the way.” Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out his keys, before removing one from the ring. “I had this made for you.” He handed Nick the key.

 

Nick stared at it. “Thanks,” he said. Forcing a grin, heart beating wildly in his chest, Nick added the key to his own set.

 

*

 

When Sean returned to the apartment, having dealt with a minor problem at the station, it was to find Nick sitting in the foyer.

 

He frowned. Nick was sitting on a chair, arms crossed, gaze fixed unwaveringly on the building guard.

 

“You know,” Sean said as he approached. “The whole point of giving you a key was so that you could just go in.”

 

Nick let a sharp grin cross his face. “I know,” he said.

 

“So you're sitting in the foyer, because?”

 

The grin turned sharper. “The apartment's bugged,” he said. “Again.”

 

Sighing, Sean closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This is getting old,” he said.

 

“Agreed,” Nick said. “Still, for them to be bugging it, they have to be gaining access somehow.” He continued to glare at the guard.

 

No, not just glaring. Nick was grimming as hard as Sean had ever seen him do so. Eyes narrowed, gaze cold, he was throwing his grim essence straight at the building guard.

 

“So you decided to sit in the foyer?” Sean questioned.

 

“I did,” Nick agreed. He shot Sean a quick glance, smiling at him. “Why don't you grab some more clothes – we haven't done laundry yet – and then we can get out of here.”

 

Nodding, Sean turned towards the elevators. He had a feeling he knew why Nick was glaring so hard at the building guard.

 

“Oh, and Sean,” Nick called, when he was almost inside the elevator. “Don't forget pajamas. Or,” he added, eyes sweeping over him, “do.” Nick smirked.

 

Sean was thankful for the closing elevator doors. That grimm really was going to kill him one of these days. From sheer frustration.

 

*

 

When Sean returned to the foyer, Nick was still there. Still glaring. And grimming all over the place. Bag in hand, Sean walked up to Nick.

 

“I've got enough for a few more days,” he said. “But then we're really going to have to do laundry.”

 

“It'd last a little longer,” Nick replied, “if we didn't keep getting them dirty.”

 

Sean silently counted to ten, willing away his spike of arousal. Instead, he turned the full force of his glare onto the guard.

 

In response the guard – who was already sweating and shifting uncomfortably from Nick's gaze – threw himself at them. “It was me!” he declared. “It was me! I confess! I did it! They paid me to do it!”

 

Smiling, Nick stood up. “Thank you,” he said. “You have the right to remain silent...”

 

*

 

With the building guard booked and locked away, Nick and Sean finally made it back to the house. Unlocking the door, Nick pushed his way inside. It was late, he was tired, and the thought of curling up in bed with Sean was incredibly enticing.

 

Sean seemed to have the same idea. Without words, they moved easily through the motions of preparing for bed. The night was a little cooler than the previous couple, but, with a quick glance at the bed, Nick determined that it would be okay for him to still go shirtless. They had enough covers on the bed, not to mention body heat they could share (he ignored the fact that, really, he just wanted to feel Sean's skin against his).

 

Slipping into bed beside Sean, Nick curled into him. Their legs twined together, Nick's left hand coming up to grasp onto Sean's right shoulder as he draped himself over the other man's chest. Comfortable and content, head resting on Sean's shoulder, Nick sighed.

 

This, he thought, this he really could get used to (he ignored the small voice that suggested he already was used to it).

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, that was almost 9,000 words. Not my longest - but still far longer than my chapters tended to be before I started this fic.
> 
> Also, I have recently been going through prompts over on the old grimm kink meme, and have found quite a number I'm interested in filling.  
> I've made a post with some of them in it over on tumblr - so feel free to pop over and let me know if you'd like to see any of them.
> 
> (I'm also happy for you to let me know what you'd like to see in the following chapters)


	6. Day Five - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lazy Sunday morning, a woman asking for Nick at the precinct, some kids get into trouble, Viktor decides to do something about Nick's rebuffs, and oh, is this a slight change in Nick and Sean's relationship, finally?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS:** this chapter deals with the topic of an attempted sexual assault - it is not gone into at great depth, but the victim describes the attack and her reactions, so please proceed with caution if this could be triggering for you (also, if that is the case, and you want to read a version with that part removed, let me know).
> 
> Also, although I've said this is set somewhere around the first half of season three, I've realised that I may start drawing on some information from later parts of the series to inform my depictions of some characters (when you get to the end of the chapter, you'll know who I mean).

Nick woke slowly, sunlight creeping in around the edges of the curtains to lighten the room. Humming in contentment, he nuzzled into Sean's shoulder, basking in the warmth and safety he felt – and the lack of a need to get up.

 

Shifting in his sleep, Sean wrapped his arm tighter around Nick. Smiling, Nick kissed the skin beneath his lips, already sinking back towards sleep.

 

Perhaps half an hour later, he stirred at the feel of Sean moving next to him. Grumbling incoherently for a moment – he really had been quite comfortable – Nick slitted his eyes open to glance bleerily at Sean.

 

“Where'you'going?” he slurred.

 

Pausing, Sean looked down at Nick. “Bathroom,” he replied softly, reaching out to stroke his hand over Nick's hair.

 

Humming in agreement, snuggling into the warmth left in the sheets where Sean's body had been, Nick nodded.

 

“Don'be'long,” he muttered.

 

Pushing himself the rest of the way out of the bed, Sean stared down at Nick for a moment. Already the grimm's breaths were evening back into sleep. Sean could still feel the lingering pressure of Nick against his skin.

 

Giving his head a shake, he headed into the bathroom, quickly taking care of business. Returning to the room, he stared at Nick for another moment, before turning and heading down the stairs. He had already invaded enough of Nick's life with his request – and Nick had been surprisingly tolerant and willing to play up their fake relationship at any moment. Sean had thought it would have taken longer for them to become comfortable with each other. Longer before Nick would lean into his touches, or feel comfortable to flirt with him.

 

Moving into the kitchen, Sean got himself a glass of water, staring out the window at the early morning.

 

There were moments, he admitted, where he could almost forget they were pretending. Moments when it seemed as though Nick really meant the flirting and casual touches. He'd thought he'd have to coax the grimm into a sense of familiarity and ease with each other. That he'd have to show Nick how to stand close, or clasp hands or smile and tease.

 

But he hadn't had to show Nick anything. The grimm had been all too willing to take the lead. Which, in many ways, relieved Sean. He had worried about pushing the grimm too far, asking too much, doing something that would push Nick away from him, instead of drawing him closer. Knowing that Nick was comfortable with their charade set his mind at ease.

 

Sean grinned. And drove Viktor insane – which was a nice, added bonus.

 

Placing his glass down on the bench, Sean shifted his weight. Perhaps it was time to think about his next moves.

 

*

 

Nick dozed, shifting restlessly, fingers scrabbling against the cool sheets each time he reached out. Grunting, he forced himself awake enough to open his eyes, glaring at the empty bed beside him.

 

“How long does it take to use the bathroom?” he muttered. Then shook his head – and why couldn't he sleep without Sean in the bed?

 

Pushing himself upright, Nick listened. The bathroom was silent. A glance at the clock showed that another half hour or so had passed – and Sean had not returned.

 

Scowling, Nick swung his legs over the side of the bed, before standing and shuffling towards the door. It was a Sunday morning. Neither of them had to work. And it was barely past 7am. The whole point of Sunday mornings, as far as he was concerned, were for sleeping in.

 

And if Nick's body had apparently decided that he needed Sean in the bed in order to sleep – well, Sean was just going to have to get in the bed.

 

Reaching the kitchen, Nick leant in the doorway, frowning at the sight of Sean, sitting at the table with his phone before him. There was a crease between his eyebrows.

 

“This isn't the bathroom,” Nick said.

  
Sean glanced up, surprised to see the grimm standing in the doorway. Nick's sleep pants rode low on his hips, and Sean had to drag his gaze away.

 

“I didn't want to disturb you,” he replied.

 

Pushing off the door-frame, Nick entered the room, coming to a halt leaning against the table beside Sean. It was unfair, Sean thought, just how much bare skin was suddenly at his eye-level.

 

“What disturbed me,” Nick said, “was you not returning to bed.” He scowled at Sean's phone. “It's Sunday.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“No work. That means, we get to sleep in.” Reaching out, Nick snatched up Sean's phone. Leaning back in his chair, Sean watched him.

 

“Are you asking me to come back to bed?” he asked.

 

Nick shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he replied. Grabbing Sean's arm, he gave a tug, pulling the taller man behind him as he headed for the stairs, dropping Sean's phone on the bench as they passed.

 

Bemused, Sean followed him. “Our scents will have mingled overnight,” he said. “There's no need for -”

 

Nick stopped, turning back to face him. Standing above Sean on the stairs, they were at eye-level with each other. “I know,” he said. Biting his lip, Nick stared at Sean for a moment, before continuing. “Not everything has to be about pretending,” he said. “If you want,” he shrugged. “Well, I'd like it if you came back to bed.”

 

Sean's heart thudded in his chest, and he felt a smile brightening his face. “Well,” he said. “In that case, lead on.”

 

Nick grinned. “Good,” he said, “'cos for someone with that many muscles, you're surprisingly comfy.”

 

*

 

They slipped back into bed together, Nick sighing as his whole body seemed to melt, going boneless. Rolling over, he slung his arm over Sean, pulling himself in tight to the other man. Bare skin against bare skin, Nick shifted until he was half on top of Sean, chests pressed together. Moving his legs, he managed to get them tangled up with Sean's, until he was sure the other man couldn't leave again without waking him – or taking him with him.

 

“Comfortable?” Sean asked.

 

Nick grunted, he could hear the smile in Sean's voice.

 

Eyes closed, Nick basked in the warmth of the sunlight creeping into the room, and the heat of Sean's body beneath him.

 

Drifting in that place between sleep and awake he admitted, if only to himself, that he wouldn't mind spending every morning like that. He wouldn't mind it at all.

 

*

 

A couple of hours later, Nick slowly drifted his way towards wakefullness. With each breath, he drew in the scent of Sean, giving him a complete lack of motivation to get up or do anything other than lie there.

 

A soft brush of fingers through his hair had Nick smiling unconsciously, leaning into the touch.

 

“Nick?” Sean asked softly.

 

Nick hummed in the back of his throat, shifting his head to try and get Sean to resume his stroking.

 

Chuckling, Sean did so.

 

“You are incredibly affectionate when you're asleep, did you know that?” Sean asked.

 

Nick just hummed once more. He could have told Sean that he enjoyed cuddling – or snuggling – or sharing body heat – or whatever you wanted to call it. He could have told him that, after his parents were killed, there were a lot less friendly pats on the back or hair ruffling or hugs going on. Marie tried – but she wasn't his mother or father, and it took her a while to figure out how to be a parent. By the time she did, they'd gotten into the habit of only touching occasionally. As a result, well, Nick could admit to himself that sometimes he _craved_ touch. And if he trusted someone – well, they were free to get handsie with him.

 

He could have said that, from what little he knew about Sean's past, and what little he had seen, he suspected that Sean needed touch even more than he did. But that would have been getting too close to addressing that elephant with Sean, and it was easier to let Sean think he was helping Nick than to tell him that he wanted Sean to touch him so that Sean, himself, could experience touch.

 

Instead, Nick just hummed, pressed his head back into Sean's fingers, and trailed lazy patterns against the ridges of Sean's abs beneath his fingers.

 

_This_ , Nick thought, _is exactly what a Sunday morning should be like_. He smiled.

 

“What?” Sean asked, feeling Nick's lips move against his skin.

 

“'S'nice,” Nick replied.

 

“Mmmm,” Sean agreed. He kept stroking his fingers through Nick's hair.

 

 

Some time later, Nick's stomach gave a loud gurgle, alerting both men to the fact that neither one had had breakfast. Nick groaned, feeling a wash of embarrassment.

 

Sean laughed. “I guess that means we should get up,” he said.

 

“Do we have to?” Nick asked, voice half-smothered in Sean's chest. In opposition to his words, Nick's stomach chose that moment to voice another loud protest.

 

“I think we do,” Sean agreed, “before your neighbours come over to find out what I'm doing to you to cause such a noise.” He gave a gentle tug on Nick's hair.

 

Sighing, Nick pushed himself upright, hovering above Sean. “Fine,” he said, “but you're cooking me breakfast.”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I am, am I?” he asked.

 

“Yep,” Nick agreed, flashing a quick, playful grin. Leaning down, he pecked Sean on the lips, before pushing himself up into a sitting position and moving towards the edge of the bed.

 

“Nick,” Sean said.

 

“Hmmm?” Nick glanced back at him. Reaching out, Sean wrapped his arm around Nick's waist, giving a sharp tug that sent the grimm sprawling back over Sean's chest. His other arm coming up and around Nick to hold the back of his head, Sean drew him into what he considered a proper kiss.

 

With a groan, Nick opened his mouth, allowing Sean's insistent tongue entry. With Sean's strong arms banded around him, one hand holding his head tight in place so that the taller man could ravish his mouth (and there really was no other word for it than ravish), Nick abandoned all thoughts of getting up.

 

Who needed breakfast when they were getting kissed like that?

 

Tilting his head, Sean bit gently at Nick's lower lip, causing the grimm to gasp into his mouth. Smiling, Sean stroked his tongue against Nick's, the hand on Nick's head pulling him in even closer.

 

Nick's stomach grumbled. Loudly.

 

Reluctantly, Sean slowed their kiss, drawing Nick back from him with the hand in his hair. Nick's eyes were blown wide with pleasure, lips red and swollen, mouth parted as he panted above Sean.

 

“Why'd you stop?” he asked.

 

His stomach gurgled.

 

Groaning, Nick let his forehead thump down onto Sean's chest. Why couldn't his stomach realise he wasn't interested in food right at that moment?

 

“Come on,” Sean said, pushing Nick up so that he, himself, could sit up. “Let's get you fed.”

 

With a sigh, Nick allowed himself to be pulled up off the bed and led downstairs by the hand Sean twined in his.

 

*

 

Sean, Nick found out, was an excellent cook. Nick, himself, wasn't too bad. He didn't have to order take-out all the time to avoid starving, and he could somewhat follow a recipe. But Sean just seemed to look at what he had in the kitchen, toss it all together, and have it come out looking, and tasting, like a masterpiece.

 

Groaning as he took a bite of the omelet Sean placed before him, Nick glanced up at his fake lover. “Can I keep you?” he asked.

 

Sean blinked. “Keep me?”

 

Nick grinned back at him, not sure he should let on just how serious he had been in that moment. When Sean had asked him to pretend to date him, he'd been surprised, both at the request and the idea that he'd be pretending to date Sean.

 

But it had been so easy. So easy to slip into Sean's personal space. To touch and kiss and flirt. Not to mention the fact that, so far, no-one had been suspicious about their relationship at all.

 

It was... well, not comfortable. Nick found himself aroused far too often for that to be the case. But it was comforting. Somewhere, over the years, Nick had come to trust Sean completely. And, he'd realised, that had translated into a friendly, relaxed (when not aroused), yet competitive relationship (because Nick still couldn't back down from a challenge). It was nice to have someone to come home to, to share things with, but more than that, Sean just made everyday life more enjoyable.

 

The fact that he'd had a crush on Sean since first laying eyes on him was something Nick refused to acknowledge.

 

“Perhaps I should cook for you more often,” Sean said, “if that's the response I get.”

 

Nick grinned cheekily at him. “Maybe you should,” he agreed, taking another bite. “Or you could -”

 

He was cut off by the sound of the phone ringing. Turning, Nick snatched Sean's phone up from where he'd left it earlier that morning. The display was lit up with the incoming call – from Wu.

 

Hitting the answer icon, Nick raised it to his ear. “Yeah, Wu,” he said. “And yes, I know this is the Captain's phone. Don't you know that it's Sunday, and unless the world's ending, he's off work?”

 

“Actually,” Wu replied, “it's you I was after.”

 

“So you rang Sean's phone because?”

 

“Because you weren't answering yours. And I figured it was a good bet that wherever the Captain was, you'd be there too.”

 

“Fair enough,” Nick muttered. “What's up?”

 

“Got a woman here,” Wu said, “asking for you. Now, normally I wouldn't bother you on your day off, but she's pretty insistent. Says she won't talk to anyone else.”

 

Nick frowned, wondering who it could be. “Did she say what it was about?”

 

“No. All she keeps saying is that she needs to talk to you. Oh, and she called you something weird... a grim? Do you know what that's about?”

 

Nick sighed, mentally waving goodbye to the rest of his lazy Sunday with Sean. “It's uh, a nickname I seem to have picked up somewhere,” he said.

 

“O-kay,” Wu replied. “What do you want me to do with the woman?”

 

“Tell her I'll be there soon.” Pushing himself upright, Nick gave Sean an apologetic look. Hanging up the phone, he tossed it lightly to Sean.

 

“You're heading in?” Sean asked.

 

“Yeah. Got a woman asking for me – and apparently she called me a grimm.”

 

“So she's likely wesen.”

 

“Yeah.” Taking his plate to the sink, Nick turned back to Sean. “What are you gonna do?”

 

“I might come with you,” Sean replied. “There's a few things I can work on at the precinct while you speak to her, and that way I'll be around in case it's anything serious.”

 

“Sounds good.” Turning back to Sean, Nick realised that they were still both in their pyjama pants, sans shirts. He cracked a smile. “Guess we'd better get dressed then,” he said.

 

*

 

Entering the bullpen, Nick and Sean were met by Wu.

 

“Sorry to cut your Sunday short,” he said. “The woman's just over there.” He motioned to one of the walls, where a few chairs sat. A young woman was perched on the edge of one, right leg jiggling nervously.

 

Her hair was mid-length, blonde, with a few pink streaks near the front. She was dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and t-shirt for a local band. Metal bangles clicked together on both wrists, and her nails were painted a bright, hot pink, filed into sharp tips. She didn't look more twenty years old.

 

“Okay,” Nick said. “Thanks Wu.”

 

“I'll be in the office,” Sean said, giving Nick a nod as Nick moved over to the woman.

 

“Hey,” Nick said, coming to a stop just before the row of chairs. The young woman jumped, gaze snapping up to his. As she did so, she woged – a nuckelavee.

 

Drawing a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself, the young woman pushed herself to her feet. “You're the grimm,” she said. There was no question in her voice, but Nick nodded anyway.

 

“Nick Burkhardt,” he said, holding out his hand.

 

Giving a soft laugh, she shook it. “Gina,” she said. “Gina Thomas.”

 

“It's nice to meet you, Gina,” Nick replied. “Sergeant Wu said you wanted to speak to me.”

 

She nodded, biting her lip.

 

The room was mostly empty, but Nick wasn't too surprised at the way her eyes darted around, suspicious and anxious.

 

“You know,” he said, “it's a lovely day. If you want, we could go for a walk, there's park not far away with some nice benches, and you could tell me why you wanted to see me. Or,” he shrugged, “we can talk at my desk, or in one of the interview rooms.”

 

“The, the park could be good,” she said.

 

“Okay.” Giving her his boyish grin, Nick glanced over to the Captain's office. “Let me just tell the Captain where we're headed.”

 

Striding over to the office, Nick knocked on the door frame, sticking his head in.

 

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “We're gonna head down to the park. See you in a bit?”

 

Sean nodded. Papers spread out before him, computer on, he was already immersed in his work. “But first,” he said. Standing, Sean walked over to Nick who, smiling bemusedly, stepped into the office to meet him.

 

Reaching out, Sean wrapped one arm around Nick's waist, his other hand burying itself in Nick's hair as he drew him into a brief, but thorough, kiss.

 

Stepping back, Sean smiled at him. “If our Sunday has to be interrupted,” he said as explanation.

 

Shooting Sean a lop-sided grin, Nick stepped backwards. “Well,” he replied, “I look forward to what I'll get when I return.”

 

*

 

“The Captain?” Gina asked as they headed out of the bullpen, referring to Nick's last comment to her, “or your boyfriend?”

 

“We prefer chosen,” Nick replied, “and he's both.”

 

Gina smiled and shook her head. “I think it's sweet,” she said.

 

“To be honest,” Nick replied, “I'm rather surprised by how much interest there's been in our relationship. I had no idea it would be such a big deal.”

 

Gina shrugged. “I wouldn't be here if I hadn't heard,” she admitted. “It, I guess in some way, it makes you safe. On our side, at least.”

 

Nick bit back the comment that immediately sprung to his lips – 'I've always been on your side' – choosing instead to focus on the reason he had come into work on his day off.

 

“So,” he said, leading Gina into the park, “what did you want to talk to me about?”

 

They made their way over to one of the many benches scattered throughout the park, taking a seat. Twisting her fingers in her lap, Gina turned to face Nick.

 

“I,” she began, pausing to swallow nervously. “I need your help. As our grimm.” She bit her lip.

 

“Okay,” Nick said, leaning forward to show that she had his full attention. “What with?”

 

“I need you to arbitrate,” she replied. “They said, they said you agreed to that. To helping us. Being our contact.”

 

Reaching out, Nick placed his hand over hers, stilling their twisting. “Hey,” he said, giving her a gentle smile. “It's okay. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. But first, I need to know what it is – and why you need me and not just any police officer.”

 

Nodding, Gina turned her hands so that she could grasp his, squeezing tight. It seemed to give her strength, and calm her down, so Nick let her.

 

“I work at the _Moondance_ club,” she said, “bar staff. It's late nights, doesn't pay all that great, but it fits in around Uni, you know?” Nick nodded. “I was, I was working the other night,” she said. “There was this guy there. Seemed to be, well, looking for trouble, if you know what I mean.

 

“I went over to offer him a drink, hoped maybe I could get him to calm down before something happened. Only, he seemed to take that as some kind of invitation. Started chatting me up.” She gave a self-conscious shrug. “I was flattered,” she admitted.

 

“He was the kind of guy who could have had his pick of women, you know? Anyway, I got off work at two, he was still there, and suggested we go for a walk down to the docks, look out over the water.

 

“He'd seemed to calm down a lot, so I thought, why not – it's not like _I_ had anything to worry about wandering around at night.” She laughed self-deprecatingly. “We went down to the docks. He was charming at first, said all the right things.

 

“Then he started to get a bit handsy, I told him to back off, but he wouldn't.” She swallowed, tears springing to her eyes. Nick gave her hands a squeeze. “So I tried to walk away. He grabbed me, pulled me back towards him. That's when I saw him woge. He was a hundjager.

 

“I didn't know what to do. I was so scared.” She shook her head. “I was so _stupid_. Just because I have the strength to generally not worry about human men being able to attack me, doesn't mean there aren't wesen out there who would do the same.

 

“I struggled, but he had hold of me. Pulled me towards him. I scratched at his arms with my nails,” she spread her bright, pointed tips, “but he just laughed. He, he was trying to put his hand up my shirt. So I stomped on his foot. As hard as I could.

 

“He cried out and let go, so I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but it was dark. I hit something. Tripped. I fell over, and I could hear him behind me. So I grabbed the closest thing, which was this wooden plank.

 

“And I swung it at him as hard as I could.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I didn't mean to kill him, I swear. I just wanted to stop him. And he was a hundjager, so I knew I had to hit him hard to make him stop. I, I didn't even know he was dead until I went to work last night. Some of the girls were talking about the body down at the docks.

 

“I swear, I didn't mean to -”

 

“Hey,” Nick interrupted her gently, giving her hands a squeeze. “Hey, it's gonna be all right.”

 

“I knew I couldn't talk to just anyone,” Gina said. “How would I explain it? How could someone my size hit someone like that and kill them? Unless it was somehow planned? And I wouldn't have hit him so hard if he wasn't a hundjager, but how do I explain that?”

 

“Firstly,” said Nick, “people will believe an unlikely explanation over one they think impossible.” He gave a rueful grin. “Sometimes, knowing about wesen, we think anything out of the ordinary has to be wesen related.” He shrugged. “Seeing the deep scratches on the guy's arms – we though you had to be some kind of wesen with claws. But no-one's gonna have any trouble believing the truth, which is that you just have more sharply pointed nails than most women. They'll also believe what happened, because they won't have any other explanation for it.” Gina glanced down at her nails, biting her lip.

 

“Secondly,” Nick continued, “if you hit someone in the right spot, it doesn't take that much force to kill them. So, there's no reason to think you'll be disbelieved.”

 

“But he was hundjager,” Gina said. “That means he was verrat. He was working for the royals – I can't go up against the royals!”

 

Giving her hands another squeeze, Nick pulled her attention back to him. “He may have been hundjager,” he said, “but he was clearly in the wrong. Nor was he working for Sean – who is the only royal whose word matters in Portland.” She nodded, still appearing anxious, but as though she wanted to believe him.

 

Nick leant back on the seat. “As the hundjager was foreign, this has been made a federal case. There are two FBI agents working it. One of whom is a klaustreich. So, we have a couple of options.” He paused, considering just what he wanted to say – what he wanted to offer. But the wesen community were trusting him as their grimm, so he continued. “Option one, we tell the FBI agents that you have come forward as a witness, and you tell them your story – simply leaving out the parts about your attacker being a hundjager. All you need to say is that he refused to let you go and began to sexually assault you. You acted in self defence.

 

“Option two, we don't tell anyone else. You've told me and, as Portland's grimm, I can arbitrate the case, outside the usual judicial system. Either way, should the other royals in town become aware of your involvement, it will be made abundantly clear to them that they have no right to approach you in any way.”

 

Nodding, Gina stared down at her hands, biting her lip. She drew a deep breath. “Do you think I did the right thing?” she asked.

 

“I don't know if there is a 'right' thing,” Nick replied. “Sometimes, all we can do is what we can. You were attacked, and you responded in self defence. There's nothing wrong about that. Yes, your attacker ended up dead, but that was not your intention, so there is nothing wrong about that. I don't know that, in this situation, there was a 'right' thing – because as soon as he attacked you, he removed anything right from the situation. And I would never suggest you don't fight to protect yourself. So, I think you made the best choice you could, even if someone else may not see it as 'right'.”

 

“Thanks,” Gina whispered. Taking a breath, she looked up at him. “What do you suggest I do now?”

 

Nick shrugged. “There's always a chance that you'll be tied to the case,” he said. “We were fairly sure that the deceased had come from the direction of the club, and passed that information onto the FBI. Coming forward yourself always looks better than only speaking up once you've already been linked to the case. The fact that one of the FBI agents is wesen also means that they will be more likely to understand and support you. So, I would suggest we speak to the FBI – if you're willing.

 

“But I understand if you don't want to. And, when I agreed to step in for the wesen community as needed, I meant it.”

 

“Then I guess I need to make an official statement,” Gina said.

 

*

 

In a rather expensive and luxurious hotel room somewhere in Portland, Viktor Albert Wilhelm George Beckendorf was not happy. Staring out the window and down upon the streets of Portland, Viktor clenched his hands into fists. Things were _not_ going as planned.

 

The grimm was meant to be impressed with Viktor. To see, as clearly as Viktor could, just how much better than that half-beast bastard, he was. There was no reason – at all – that the grimm should prefer Sean over Viktor. Viktor was the crown prince. He had wealth and power and standing. His lineage was impeccable, and, with Eric dead, and Sean's bastard status, he could be considered the most pure of royal blood after the king himself.

 

Not to mention all that Viktor could offer the grimm. Or that Austria was far superior in every way to Portland. There was nothing he had seen in Portland so far to entice him to stay, let alone choose it over Europe. The fact that the grimm was so willing to settle for this mediocre town where his bastard cousin wasn't even a visible ruler, baffled him.

 

And infuriated him. Viktor was not used to disappoint. Nor did he want to become used to it.

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“Come in,” Viktor called, turning back to face the room. The door opened, a tall man slipping inside.

 

“You asked to see me,” he said.

 

Viktor smiled. “I did. I have a, slight, problem, which I was hoping you could help me with.” He motioned towards the decanter sitting on a side table, making a 'your loss' gesture when his guest turned it down. “I want the grimm dealt with,” he said.

 

“Prince Sean has made it clear that he does not welcome our intrusion into affairs in Portland.”

 

“Prince Sean,” Viktor snapped, “is a _bastard!_ **I** am the Crown Prince. And I want the grimm dealt with!”

 

“As you wish.”

 

Smirking to himself, Viktor watched the man leave. Nick Burkhardt would be sorry he ever denied Viktor anything.

 

*

 

Returning to the station, Nick led Gina over to his desk, where they worked together to get her statement written down and signed off. The completed statement was entirely truthful – though not containing quite the entirety of the information Gina had given Nick.

 

“Done,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair and giving Gina a grin.

 

“What now?” she asked.

 

“Now? Now, we need to call the Agents dealing with the case.”

 

She swallowed.

 

“Relax,” Nick said, “it'll be fine. Plus, I'm not about to leave just yet.” Picking up his phone, he dialled Agent Mackey. His conversation with the Agent was short, simply informing him that a witness had shown up in regards to the case – and a subtle suggestion that Mackey head down to speak to her first, before involving Thicke.

 

With Mackey's agreement, and estimate that he was only ten minutes away, Nick offered Gina a coffee while they waited. Glancing over towards The Captain's office, he waited for Sean to glance up, before holding up his mug and raising an eyebrow.

 

Sean gave a brief nod, and a smile, before turning back to his work.

 

Looking back over to Gina at her muffled snort, Nick saw her biting her lip. “What?” he asked.

 

“Seriously?” she said, indicating his mug. Nick glanced down at it. The mug was the purple, glitter and jewel covered creation that Wu had given him.

 

“A present from a co-worker,” he explained. Then he smirked. “And don't worry, Sean has one too.”

 

Gina's face made a strange expression that Nick figured was somewhat of a cross between incredulity and mirth – as though she wasn't quite sure which emotion to feel. Grinning, he pushed himself to his feet, heading towards Sean in order to grab the Captain's mug.

 

“You know,” Nick said, perching on the edge of the table next to Sean, “I was expecting a bit more of an enthusiastic greeting when I returned.”

 

“Oh?” Sean asked, leaning back in his chair to look up at Nick (the fact that Nick had conveniently made it almost impossible for him to continue his paperwork was only part of his reason for indulging the grimm). “And yet, this is the first time I've really seen you since you've been back.”

 

“Well, maybe you'll just have to welcome me back now, then,” Nick replied, fiddling with the mug in his hands.

 

“So, you're saying you think I should welcome you back,” Sean said. “Did you have any ideas as to how I should do so?”

 

Grinning, Nick placed his mug on the desk so that he could lean forward, hands coming to rest on the arms of Sean's chair. He licked his lips. “I'm sure you can think of something,” he said.

 

“I could,” Sean agreed easily, also leaning in. “But then what if I chose something you're not happy with.”

 

Nick laughed. “I'm not sure that's possible,” he said, “Captain.”

 

Sean's eyes darkened, his hands coming up to rest on Nick's thighs. It was Nick's turn to swallow, feeling a rush of heat flood through him. “In that case, Detective,” Sean replied, “I suggest you fetch that promised coffee, and see what reward you get.” He leant back.

 

Nick pursed his lips, uncertain whether to push further or not. There was a spark of amusement in Sean's eyes that suggested he knew just how he was affecting the grimm. So, pushing himself to his feet, Nick grabbing both coffee mugs. “I will,” he said.

 

Leaving the room, Nick quickly filled the mugs with coffee, automatically adding a teaspoon of sugar to Sean's, no milk. Taking a mug out to Gina, he headed back into Sean's office.

 

“Here you go, my Prince,” he said, placing Sean's mug on his desk.

 

Sean hummed in reply, taking a sip. “Thank you,” he said, “my Princess.”

 

“Don't forget I have a gun,” Nick replied.

 

Sean raised an eyebrow, making Nick blush, even as he stepped closer, coming to a halt sitting on the desk between Sean's thighs.

 

“Do I get a reward?” he asked.

 

In response, Sean leant forward, sliding his hands up Nick's thighs and onto his waist, where he pushed his forefingers through Nick's belt buckles and gave a gentle tug. “Lean down,” he said.

 

Nick leant forward, meeting Sean's lips in a kiss. Sean's hands shifted higher, leaving Nick's belt to traced around the top of his jeans, before beginning to make their way beneath his shirt. Moaning into the kiss, Nick tried to more forward, allow Sean more access.

 

Unfortunately, he was already perched precariously on the edge of the desk, which caused him to jerk, stumbling as his butt left the desk and he almost fell.

 

Catching himself with one hand on Sean's shoulder and the other on his chair, Nick bit his lip, glancing up at Sean. He laughed.

 

Sean shook his head at him.

 

“Sorry,” Nick said, righting himself. Voices drifted in from the bullpen, a quick glance showing that Agent Mackey had arrived.

 

“You'd best get out there,” Sean said.

 

“Yeah,” Nick agreed.

 

*

 

The phone rang. “Yes,” Viktor said, lifting it to his ear.

 

“It is arranged. Four have been assigned to deal with the grimm.”

 

Viktor smiled. “Good,” he said. “I want him delivered to me when they are finished.”

 

“Very well. But we will keep the head.”

 

“The head?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How am I supposed to convince him to work for me if you take his head?” Viktor snapped. “No. Tell your men that I want him alive. Injured is fine, preferable even, but alive.”

 

There was a pause. “It is too late to change your mind now. The orders have been issued. They have left to deal with him.” The line clicked off.

 

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Viktor glared at it. Spinning on his heel, he stalked towards the door that adjoined the room to the one next to it.

 

“Rispoli!” he snapped.

 

The Verrat leader stepped into the doorway. “Yes, your highness?”

 

“I need you to take your men and find the grimm. Before the Reapers do. Bring him to me – alive. If you need to rough him up a bit in order to do so, then you have full leave to do whatever you wish. Just make sure he's still alive when he arrives, and likely to stay that way.” He scowled. “I _will_ have that grimm as mine.”

 

Dipping his head in acknowledgement, Rispoli exited the room.

 

Fuming, Viktor stalked over to the window once more. His only consolation was that, with both Reapers and Verrat after the grimm, neither said grimm, nor his bastard cousin, would be having a particularly pleasant day either.

 

*

 

Outside the police department and down the road a little bit, three kids stared at each other.

 

“What are we gonna do?” one asked, voice wobbling slightly from fear. Next to him, his brother gave his shoulder a quick pat.

 

“We'll be all right,” he said.

 

“We're lost,” the third replied, frowning. “How is that all right?”

 

“Well....” Looking around, the second kid spied the police station. He grinned. “There!”

 

The other two turned to look, faces brightening.

 

*

 

“Um, excuse me?”

 

Turning, Wu stared down at the three kids standing before him. “Uh, hello,” he said. “Can I help you?”

 

“Yes,” the oldest looking one replied, giving a nod. “We need to speak to the grimm.”

 

Wu blinked. That was the second time today he'd heard that phrase. “The grimm?” he asked.

 

The boy blushed. “Uh, yes. The grimm... Nick! We need to speak to Nick.”

 

“Does he know you're here?”

 

“Not.. really...”

 

“Uh-huh.” Noting the way the youngest boy was wringing his hands while standing quite close to the one who looked like his brother, Wu sighed. “Look,” he said. “Nick's currently busy. Is there anyone else I can call for you?”

 

“Is everything all right?”

 

Turning, Wu gave the Captain a brief half-grin, half-grimace. “These kids were asking for Nick,” he said. A glance back at the kids showed three pairs of incredibly wide eyes.

 

“We, uh, we didn't mean to disturb you, Sire,” the oldest said, before quickly correcting himself with a grimace. “Sir, I mean, Sir.”

 

Sean smiled gently. “You want to speak to Nick?” he asked. They nodded. “Why don't you wait in my office,” he suggested. “Then, soon as Nick's finished up, you can have a chat to him.” More nods.

 

Bemused, Wu watched as Sean led the kids into his office. The sergeant couldn't help but think that they looked like ducklings following a mother duck (something he would never mention to the Captain. Ever).

 

*

 

“This is the statement we've put down,” Nick explained, showing it to Mackey. The klaustreich nodded, reading through it.

 

“It looks good,” he said, glancing up at Nick and Gina. “But you didn't ask me to come here before alerting my partner just for this.”

 

“No,” Nick agreed, he glanced at Gina. “The deceased was a hundjager. Considering what we know about him, no doubt he was working either for Viktor, Frederick, or both.” Gina made a soft sound of distress at the casual way Nick spoke about the royals. “Therefore, it would be best to ensure that they never find out about Gina.”

 

“Agreed,” Mackey replied. “I'm sure that, considering the circumstances, and Gina's statement, we can get a judge to sign off on it as self defense.”

 

“And if there are questions?” Nick asked.

 

“They can ask all they like,” Mackey replied. “But we don't report to the royals in america. Besides,” he added, “with any luck, they'll start to worry we'll find something they won't want us to, and ask us to shut down the investigation.”

 

Nick frowned. “It would be nice to implicate them in the deceased's actions,” he said. “Put some pressure on them to leave.”

 

“It would,” Mackey agreed. “If I can think of way to do so without alerting them about Gina, I'll let you know.”

 

Nick turned to Gina. “What do you think?” he asked.

 

She nodded. “It sounds good,” she said. “I just, I'm a little worried about going home. What if his friends are looking for me? I won't stand a chance against the Verrat.”

 

“We'll put you into protective custody,” Mackey assured her. He glanced at Nick. “There'd be enough wesen on the force for us to organise something, right?” he asked.

 

Nick shrugged. “Far as I know, yeah,” he said. “But Sean's the best one to ask about that.”

 

Mackey nodded. “I need to call Thicke,” he said, “get him down here. You okay with the statement and any questions he'll have?” he asked Gina. She nodded.

 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, it's all true. I just can't say the guy was a hundjager.”

 

“You'll be fine,” Nick assured her. He looked at Mackey. “Let me know if you need anything else.” Back to Gina. “Both of you.”

 

They nodded. “Thanks,” Gina said. “For everything.” She gave a rueful smile. “I never thought I'd say this, but, I'm really glad Portland has a grimm.”

 

*

 

Heading back into the bullpen, Nick headed towards Sean's office. Hopefully, all the crises of the day were over, and they'd be able to return to enjoying a lazy Sunday. A glance at the time showed that it was almost midday. If they left now, they would have time to organise a nice lunch, as well.

 

Stepping into the office, Nick grinned. “Mackey's with Gina,” he said, “he'll take it from here.”

 

Sean smiled at him, while tilting his head to indicate behind Nick. Turning, Nick saw three kids sitting nervously on Sean's couch. Three pairs of eyes darting between Nick and Sean.

 

“Frankie?” he asked, “Ned? Josh?”

 

As though his words had broken them from their anxiety, they leapt to their feet, rushing towards him with cries of “Uncle Nick!”

 

“Hey,” Nick said, reaching out to steady them, brushing his hands across their heads. “What's wrong?”

 

“We got lost,” Ned told him, large eyes threatening tears. “We thought we could go shopping by ourselves. But we got lost.”

 

“Shopping by yourselves?” Nick asked. They nodded. “And your parents were okay with that?” Nervous glances.

 

“I'm sure they wouldn't mind,” Josh began.

 

“Uh-huh,” Nick said. “Which means you didn't ask them.” More nervous glances. Nick sighed. “There's a reason your parents don't want you to go shopping by yourselves just yet,” he said.

 

“We know,” Frankie replied. “But, you know, Uncle Nick – you're not going to kill us.”

 

“Or chop off our heads,” Josh added.

 

“Ummm, okay,” Nick replied. “Maybe you need to start again. What do I have to do with you going shopping?”

 

“It's why we can't go alone,” Ned explained. The older boys nodded. “Because if we're alone, a grimm might get us, and cut off our heads.”

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Nick despaired once more at being the wesen community's boogeyman.

 

“So, because we know you wouldn't do that,” Frankie explained earnestly, “we figured we'd be safe to go shopping. We're big boys.”

 

“Surely your parents have given you other reasons than just avoiding grimms for not heading off on your own in the city?” Nick asked.

 

“Well, yeah,” Josh agreed. “But they weren't that important. It's not like we're gonna get lost, or...” his voice trailed off as he realised what he was saying.

 

“Right,” Nick agreed. “So you're here now because?”

 

“We saw the station,” Frankie said, “and figured, you know, what with you being our grimm and all, you'd be able to help us.”

 

“All right,” Nick agreed. “We should probably call your parents.” All three kids grimaced.

 

“Do you have to?” Frankie asked.

 

“Yes,” Nick replied. “Knowing them, they'll be worried sick about you.”

 

Ignoring the doleful eyes and further grimaces, he fished out his phone, quickly calling Bud. The phone rang, before going to voicemail. Frowning, Nick tried again, with the same results.

 

“Okay,” he said to Josh, “what's your dad's number?”

 

Grumbling, Josh gave him the number. Again, Nick got voicemail.

 

“Well,” he said, “looks like we'll be dropping you off home.” He looked over to Sean. “You good to head off?” he asked.

 

“Of course,” Sean replied. “I was just getting a few things done while I waited.”

 

Nick grimaced. “Sorry,” he said.

 

“Not at all,” Sean replied, “it's good to see how you're fitting into the community.” Standing, he grabbed his jacket, motioning them out before him. “After you,” he said.

 

*

 

The walk down to the car was both extremely entertaining, and frustrating. The three eisbiber kids kept glancing warily at Sean, which meant they weren't always watching where they were going, and often stumbled into each other, Nick, or the walls.

 

“He's not going to hurt you, you know,” Nick said, as they finally reached the parking garage.

 

“Of course not,” Frankie agreed, before hissing. “But he's the _Prince!_ ”

 

Rolling his eyes, Nick opened the back door of his truck, motioning for them to get in. As he walked round to the front, he caught Sean's eye, seeing the suppressed amusement within. Well, that decided things.

 

Climbing into the driver's seat, Nick turned to Sean. “Before we head off,” he said. Leaning over, he drew Sean into a kiss, managing to elicit a slight gasp of surprise from the other man. Drawing back, Nick grinned, before glancing at the kids.

 

“See?” he said. “Nothing to be nervous about.”

 

Josh scoffed. “Of course you'd say that,” he said, “you're a grimm.” The other two nodded.

 

“And you're dating him,” Frankie agreed.

 

Deciding that it wasn't worth arguing about, Nick put the truck into gear.

 

*

 

He drove to Bud's first, knowing that the man was generally involved in all the goings on of the eisbiber community. He tried Bud's phone once more on the way, but got sent to voicemail again.

 

Pulling up outside Bud's house, he glanced back at the kids.

 

“Okay,” he said, “out you get.”

 

“Do we have to?” Josh asked. “Can't we just stay with you for the day?”

 

Ned nodded. “Mom's not gonna be happy,” he said.

 

“Out,” Nick replied. Turning, he jogged up to the front door, ringing the bell. There was movement from inside, and then Josh's mom, the ex-Mrs-Oblinger, was opening the door. She blinked.

 

“Nick,” she said, before her eyes moved past Nick to the three boys making their way up to the house ahead of Sean. “Josh!” she cried, “Frankie! Ned!”

 

Her cries drew Bud's wife from the house, and the next few moments were spent both hugging the boys and chiding them vociferously.

 

“Thank you,” the women told Nick and Sean. “Thank you.”

 

“No problem,” Nick replied. He sighed. “I tried Bud, and John,” he said, “but couldn't get on to either of them.”

 

The women exchanged glances. “They went to a meeting of the Lodge,” they explained. “We stayed behind in case the boys showed up.”

 

“Is everything okay?” Nick asked.

 

“We're not sure. At first, we thought maybe it was just rumours – but then when the boys went missing...”

 

Into the silence that followed her statement, Nick's phone rang.

 

“Burkhardt,” he said.

 

“Nick, hey, uh, Nick, it's me. Bud. Uh, but you probably already know that. Anyway, I was, well, I was just in a meeting at the Lodge – there are things we need to let you know about – but I saw you tried to call me a couple of times. So, you know, did you need anything? 'Cos, I'm always willing to help, you know that, just, we've got a bit of situation. By which I mean that some of the boys have gone missing, and -”

 

“Bud,” Nick interrupted. “The boys are here, they're fine. That's why was I calling you – they turned up at the station.”

 

“Oh. Thank goodness. You're a life-saver, Nick, really you are. Which, considering your status as a grimm, seems somewhat strange to be saying. But true, all the same. Thank you.”

 

“You're welcome,” Nick replied. “Is everything okay? You said we needed to talk?”

 

“Oh boy, do we,” Bud agreed. “And probably best to just let you know, you know? Only, I'm not sure it's the kind of news I should be telling you over the phone. Might be a bit of a shock, I know I was shocked, and I'm not nearly as involved as you are. So -”

 

“Bud,” Nick cut in. “Just tell me. Or, we're at your house, I can wait until you get back here.”

 

“No, no, probably best to tell you now. Don't know when they're going to make their move or anything. Best you're prepared, right? Yes, I think that's best. Anyway, I heard it at the Lodge, where Billy spoke about it. See, he heard it from Tom, a Luisant-Pecheur, who heard it from Matt, the Mauzhertz – and normally, see, I might think that was just a rumour. But then Adam agreed, said he heard it from -”

 

“Bud. Just tell me what it is.”

 

“The Reapers are here.”

 

“The Reapers?” Nick repeated, causing Sean to look at him sharply and the kid's to raise frightening eyes to his. Grimacing, Nick moved a bit away from the kids.

 

“Yeah,” Bud agreed. “I mean, this is bad, Nick. This is really bad. Reapers? They say they've been seen in Portland. Asking about you. No-one's talking. You're our grimm now, and we protect our own. But the Reapers are asking – and they don't seem to be willing to give up. So, so you know, watch your back, and all that.

 

“Oh! And they say the Verrat have also been seen out wandering the streets. So, you know,” he gave a nervous laugh. “Reapers _and_ Verrat – you need to be careful, Nick.”

 

“I'll be careful,” Nick assured him. “It'll be fine. Thanks for letting me know, Bud. If you see the others – the ones who passed on the information, thank them for me, will you?”

 

“Sure, sure thing Nick. Any time. Well, you know, hopefully not any time, as we don't really want this happening again, but -”

 

“I get it,” Nick said. “Thanks. Now, why don't you come home – there are three kids here who are very much in trouble with their mothers right now, and let Sean and I worry about the Reapers and Verrat.”

 

“Okay. Okay Nick,” Bud agreed. “Yeah, I can do that. You do that. Okay.”

 

“Bye Bud.”

 

Hanging up, Nick sighed, turning to Sean, who was standing almost on top of him as he listened to as much of the conversation as he could.

 

“Reapers and Verrat?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I guess there goes the rest of our peaceful Sunday.”

 

“Not necessarily,” Sean replied. “So far, no-one's found the house.”

 

Nick grinned. “So, what? You suggest we head back there?” he asked, taking that tiny step forward that moved him from 'in Sean's personal space', to 'pressed up against Sean'. He placed his hands on Sean's hips.

 

“Mmhmm,” Sean agreed. “I'll call a few people, ask them to keep an eye out. Then, perhaps after lunch, if you wish, we could pay a visit to my father and Viktor – and kindly suggest they remove themselves, and their agents, from Portland.”

 

Nick grinned. “That does sound appealing,” he replied. “I admit I am eager to see the look on Viktor's face when confronted in such a manner. You always take me on all the best dates.”

 

“If that's your standards,” Sean replied, “then we're going to have to do something about that.”

 

Nick laughed. He glanced back over at the kids, and their mothers. “All right,” he said, “we'll get out of your way.” He brushed off their repeated thanks, heading back out the door with Sean, and instructions to the kids to be good for their parents.

 

*

 

Pulling up outside the house, Nick frowned. There was a woman sitting on the front porch. She stood as the truck came to a halt, smoothing her skirt as she looked towards them. Sean groaned.

 

“What?” Nick asked, glancing over at him. “Do you know her?”

 

“I do,” Sean replied, pushing the truck door open and shooting Nick an exasperated look. “She's my mother.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Day Five has been split into two parts - as, at 8,500 words where this part ends, they haven't even had lunch yet. And there is so much planned for their afternoon.


	7. Day Five - part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, my apologies for the lateness of his chapter. Life got extremely busy for a bit there as the extended family decided to descend upon me for the holiday, before the adults got sick and I was left running around after the nieces and nephew - I love them to bits, but they are hard work.
> 
> That said - be happy! At just over 13k, this chapter breaks my previous personal best wordcount for a chapter. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNINGS:** for violence in this chapter. I wouldn't say it's worse than the series, but there is fighting and I do go into it a bit, including the deaths of minor OC characters. So be aware of that before reading.

“Your mother?” Nick asked, as he jumped out of the truck and moved round to stand next to Sean.

“Yes,” Sean replied, “Elizabeth Lascelles.” He sighed.

“Is this a good thing?”

“That depends,” Sean said.

“On?”

“Why she's here.” 

Nick gave Sean an inquiring look. 

“It's some time since I've seen her,” Sean explained. “And she never shows up unless there is an urgent reason to do so.”

“Bad news?” Nick suggested. 

“Perhaps,” Sean agreed, but he didn't look convinced. Rather, there was a faint air of nervous anticipation around him that Nick wouldn't have picked up on if he didn't know his Captain so well. Almost as though Sean was concerned about his mother's reaction to some decision he'd made – while desperately wanting her to be pleased.

Deciding that they had loitered long enough – and any longer would begin to look rather suspicious (plus, he could feel the expectant stare that only mother's could give burning into him), Sean began to head up the walk to the house.

Falling into step beside him, Nick reached down, grabbing Sean's hand and giving it a quick squeeze. In response, Sean tightened his fingers around Nick's. 

They walked up to where Sean's mother stood, waiting for them. She smiled as they approached.

“Sean,” she said, holding out her arms for a hug. Letting go of Sean's hand, Nick waited while they embraced. Sean leant into the hug, clasping his mother tight to him, before moving back, as though afraid someone might see his moment of vulnerability. Releasing Sean, Elizabeth turned her gaze to Nick. “And you must be my son's Chosen.”

“Uh,” Nick said. He hadn't exactly been expecting a 'meet the parents' for lunch. Well, he had already met Sean's father, he admitted, but considering their rather strained relationship and his own general disdain for Frederick, he didn't think that really counted. He had the impression, brief as it was, that Sean was far more attached to his mother, and therefore would value her opinion. Which meant that Nick needed to make a good impression. Somehow, he didn't think having the first thing he said to her be 'uh' was that great a start. 

Elizabeth stepped forward with a smile, wrapping her arms around Nick, who stiffened, before forcing himself to relax. Elizabeth had the same strong, warm and confident type of embrace as Sean, but there was something distinctly motherly in the way she held Nick. He wouldn't have been able to describe it beyond that, or explain what exactly gave him that impression, but it was there. 

Considering his own lack of maternal comfort over the years, Nick found himself sinking into the embrace far easier than he had thought he would. His own mother, he had found out, was still alive. But not able to stay with him, nor prone to excessive displays of affection. Aunt Marie, when she had been alive, was similarly unlikely to engage in frequent hugs or other emotional displays. 

He had never doubted that either of his mother figures loved him, but there was something to be said for a soft touch and a warm embrace. Which meant he found himself having to hold back from clinging to Sean's mother.

Looking over her shoulder, he caught Sean's eye, mouthing 'your mother?' at him.

Elizabeth stepped back. “I'm so pleased to meet you,” she said. “When I heard that my Sean had Chosen, I knew I simply had to come say hello.”

Nick blinked at her. “I'm sorry,” he said, “but, you're Sean's mother?”

Laughing, Elizabeth looped her arm through his. “Why?” she asked. “Don't we appear related?”

“You could pass as his sister,” Nick replied, “or his daughter.”

Sean gave Nick a look, one that clearly said too much. 

“Well, aren't you a charmer,” Elizabeth replied.

“It's not my fault you don't look old enough to be Sean's mother,” Nick said, glancing between the two. Honestly, Elizabeth didn't appear that much older than Sean. He wondered, vaguely, whether Sean would age as gracefully.

“The benefits of my heritage, I'm afraid,” Elizabeth said, with a light shrug. “I'm terribly sorry to drop in on you unannounced like this, but it's not every day your son decides on a Chosen.” She shot Sean a look. “Something which he should inform his mother about – before certain other members of the family.”

“No problem,” Nick replied, moving to unlock the front door. “Although,” he added with a slight frown. “How did you find us?”

Elixabeth shrugged. “Mothers have their ways,” she said.

“It's fine,” Sean said, correctly interpreting Nick's concern. “My mother's ways of finding things out are not ones that the rest of the family has access to.”

“Ah,” said Elizabeth, as Nick got the door open and motioned her inside. “Yes, I can understand the concern there.”

“They've been bugging the apartment,” Nick explained, taking her coat and hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. “But so far, the house seems to have escaped their notice.”

“Understandably,” Sean added, “we've been trying to keep it that way.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth agreed. “You really should have let me do something about that apartment ages ago Sean,” she added. “I suppose I can always add a little something to the house to ensure it stays hidden...” 

“Would you like a drink?” Nick offered, deciding to stay away from the topic of hiding the house for the moment. 

“Thank you, Nick, that would lovely. Wine, if you have it.”

“It's only lunch time,” Sean replied.

“Yes, and it's wine,” Elizabeth shot back. “Besides, considering the news I've had.” She gave him a rather significant look. Shaking his head, Sean moved into the kitchen, reaching up to grab a glass as Nick retrieved the wine Sean had bought the previous day.

“You'll have to stay for lunch, of course,” Nick said, popping the cork from the wine. Handing him the glass, Sean gave him a look. Nick smiled back at him.

“Thank you, Nick,” Elizabeth replied. 

“Sean was going to cook for me,” Nick continued.

“I was?” Sean asked.

“Uh huh,” Nick agreed, grinning at him. “Or don't you remember breakfast?” He passed the glass of wine to Elizabeth.

“I don't remember agreeing to that,” Sean replied. “I do remember our conversation being interrupted, however.”

Nick stepped right up into Sean's personal space. “Really?” he asked, placing his hands on Sean's hips. “I distinctly seem to recall you suggesting you cook for me more often.”

“Hmm,” Sean agreed, arms automatically coming up to wrap around Nick. “I do remember something of the kind, but it was hardly a promise to cook you lunch.”

Pressing closer, so that their hips nestled together, legs slotting between each other, Nick batted his eyelashes up at Sean. “You don't want to cook me lunch?” he asked, biting his lip.

Sean's eyes dropped to Nick's lip, darkening. “I may be able to be persuaded,” he said. 

“I'm good at persuading,” Nick replied, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of Sean's jaw. Sean swallowed, tilting his head to give Nick better access. “Very good, in fact,” Nick murmured against his skin.

“What did you have in mind?” Sean asked, arms tightening around Nick as he tried to pull him closer.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. With a start, Nick jumped backwards, almost losing his footing when his legs tangled with Sean's. Reaching out, Sean grasped Nick by the shoulders, steadying him.

Nick blushed. Hard.

“Sorry,” he muttered, ducking his head as he turned back to Elizabeth. She laughed.

“Oh, don't apologise, dear,” she replied. “It's rather refreshing to see just what it is my son sees in you. But there are some things I doubt a mother really wants to know.” She gave them both a significant look. “However,” she added, “if we assume Nick has agreed to whatever it is Sean will want as 'persuasion', and, if you can bear to help out your mother in such a way, I will admit that I would also love some of your cooking, son.”

“Very well,” Sean replied, “since you both insist.” He glanced at Nick. “But I will want that 'persuasion' later.”

Swallowing, Nick nodded. He wasn't sure if he could speak right then – not with the heat that rushed over him and all the thoughts that suddenly flooded his mind. He was afraid that, should he open his mouth, they might start tumbling out.

“Excellent!” Elizabeth declared, looping her arm through Sean's and leading him back towards the kitchen. 

*

Watching Sean move around the kitchen, Nick smiled at the ease with which his 'fake' lover moved. There was no hesitation as he moved between the cupboards, as he grabbed ingredients or pans or bowls. It was as though Sean had been using the kitchen for a long time, even though Nick knew that wasn't case.

It likely helped that Sean had put away most of their groceries the previous day, and that he had helped choose said groceries. But there was something about watching Sean move through the kitchen as though he was at home that made Nick smile in a way he thought he'd left behind with his teenage years.

“So, Nick,” Elizabeth said, taking a seat. “Tell me about yourself?”

Dragging his eyes away from Sean as he turned to her, Nick gave a wry smile and a shrug. “There's not much to tell,” he said. 

“Oh, I'm sure that's not true.” Elizabeth smiled at him, patting at the chair next to hers. “After all, you did manage to capture my son.”

Nick glanced over at Sean, who was studiously focused on what he was doing. Shaking his head, Nick took the seat. “What do you want to know?” he asked.

“Well, how you met Sean, for starters.”

Nick grinned. “He was my boss.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “So, the rumours are true and you're a police detective.” Nick nodded. “And a Grimm,” Elizabeth added.

“Yeah,” Nick said with a nod. “That was a surprise.”

“You didn't know?”

“Not at first, no,” he said. “I wasn't exactly raised to it.”

Elizabeth leant back in her chair. “Which may explain your rather unique take on the role,” she said.

Nick shrugged. “I just try to do what I think is right,” he said. “Besides, I had an extremely good Captain who helped train me as a detective – I try to use that whenever I'm faced with a situation – whatever it involves.”

Elizaheth smiled. “An extremely good looking Captain, as well, I take it?” she asked.

Shooting a quick glance at Sean to see the faintest hint of red on his neck, Nick grinned. “Oh, absolutely,” he replied. “Best looking Captain I've ever seen.”

“Nick,” Sean interrupted. “Can you pass me the milk?”

Rolling his eyes at Sean's obvious attempt to prevent them from talking about him, Nick stood up, moving over to the fridge.

What followed was the kind of dance that only occurs when two people know each other well, trust each other and are comfortable around each other – all without music. 

Glancing over at what Sean was preparing, Nick began to fetch and pass him ingredients. Whenever Sean needed to move around the kitchen, they would engage in a kind of dance, moving around each other with seeming ease, never bumping into or hindering the other, but instead somehow managing to help the other, all while continuing their tasks.

Peering into the bowl Sean was using to mix a number of ingredients, Nick frowned at it. “I don't know how you do it,” he said. “I'm sure I've put those ingredients together before, but they never looked anything like this.”

“It's all in the wrist,” Sean replied. “Here, let me show you.” Stepping up behind Nick, he grabbed Nick's hand in his own, moving it to take the mixing spoon and continue mixing the ingredients in the bowl.

“Like this?” Nick asked, watching the way Sean was moving his hand around above the bowl. At the same time, Nick shivered lightly, all too aware of the scant inch or so of space between his body and Sean's. The barest movement would bring them into contact with each other. 

“Yes,” Sean agreed. He leant forward, closing that space between them, pressing a hard line of heat all along Nick's back. Nick swallowed. 

Lifting his hand off Nick's, Sean watched as Nick continued mixing. “Very good,” he said.

Biting his lip, Nick held back the moan that sprung to the back of his throat. 

“Now -” began Sean, but he was interrupted by a knock at the back door. Nick paused, glancing over. 

“I'll get it,” he said. “Don't want to ruin all your hard work.” 

“Mmm,” Sean agreed, giving Nick a quick swat on his backside as he left. Nick glared at him over his shoulder, but made no comment.

Opening the back door, he blinked. “Roddy,” he said.

Nervously, the teen shifted, glancing around himself, before squaring his shoulders and staring back at Nick. 

“What's wrong?” Nick asked. It was extremely unusual for Roddy to turn up at the house. While Nick did keep in a vague kind of contact with him, and knew that Monroe did as well, Roddy didn't go out of his way to meet them, but rather let them come to him.

Frowning when Roddy didn't immediately answer, Nick reached out, placing his hand on the reinigen's shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

Roddy nodded. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, glancing around once more. “I just...” he paused, swallowing. “I thought you should know,” he said, “there are Reapers in town. They're looking for you.”

“Hey,” Nick said, concerned by the way Roddy kept glancing around himself, as though worried he would be overheard. Tugging on Roddy's shoulder, he pulled him into the house, shutting the door behind them. “Just breathe,” Nick said, leading Roddy into the kitchen and over to a chair.

Sean turned from where he was cooking, raising an eyebrow in question, Nick smiled tightly back at him.

“Now,” Nick said. “You came to let me know that there are Reapers around?” he asked.

Roddy nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I heard from Mark, who heard from his dad, who saw them this morning. They were going around asking about you.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We'd heard there were some around.”

Roddy gave him a questioning look. Nick grinned.

“Eisbiber grapevine,” Nick explained. Roddy nodded. “Do you know how many there are?” Nick asked. 

Shaking his head, Roddy gave a slight shrug. “Not really,” he said. “They seemed to be moving around in pairs, though, if that helps. But word is there's at least more than one pair.”

“Okay,” Nick said. “Thanks.” He gave Roddy's shoulder a squeeze. “You want to stay for lunch?” he asked.

Startled, Roddy stared around them, taking in Sean, preparing the food, and a woman he'd never seen before, sitting nearby and giving him an assessing look. “No, uh, nah,” he said. “That's fine. I've gotta get home anyway,” he explained. “I've got a big concert coming up and all, so...” he gave a shrug.

“Okay,” Nick agreed. “Message me when you get home so I know you made it.” Roddy made a face – the one that all teenagers seemed to be capable of pulling off at a moment's notice. One that said he was unimpressed by an adult's smothering concern. But there was a slight relaxing of his frame that suggested Nick's concern helped to reassure him. Nick doubted it had been easy for him to come all the way to Nick's home in order to warn him about the Reapers – who would not want Nick to be warned.

Roddy stood, moving over to the back door. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said.

“No problem,” Nick assured him. “Thank you for letting us know.” Watching Roddy dart out the door and through the backyard, he called out after him. “And send me the details of that concert!” Roddy raised his hand to wave an agreement to Nick over his shoulder. Shaking his head, Nick returned inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Interesting kid,” Elizabeth commented.

Nick shrugged. “Roddy's a good kid,” he said.

“A reinigen that Nick has helped in the past,” Sean explained. “I'm afraid his soft spot for kids often has him wrapped around their little fingers.”

“Hardly,” Nick replied with a snort. “I just try to help them where I can.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Sean turned back to the food.

“I was surprised he came to warn you,” Elizabeth continued. “That isn't something I'd expect of a reinigen.”

“Yeah,” Nick said, “well, I've learnt not to judge someone based on their genetics. I've had far too many cases where a wesen acts differently to how I'm told they should act – like our serial killer who turned out to be a mauzhertz.”

“A mauzhertz?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.

“A mauzhertz,” Nick agreed. He shrugged. “Besides, my best friend is a blutbad, who is a vegetarian.”

Elizabeth blinked. “Well,” she said. “You certainly do seem to know a number of interesting people.” 

*

It didn't take much longer for Sean to finish preparing their food. “Set the table?” he asked Nick.

“Sure,” Nick agreed.

“Thanks,” Sean said. “While you do that, I'm going to make a few calls.” He pulled out his cell phone as he spoke, and Nick nodded, guessing that Sean was referring to 'calling a few people' to 'keep an eye out' for the Reapers.

“Don't be too long,” Nick called after him, “or we might just start without you.”

“Well,” said Elizabeth, watching Nick move around the kitchen as he grabbed plates and glasses and cutlery. “Now that my son has left us alone for a moment, do please continue telling me just how handsome he is.”

Nick laughed, glancing over to catch her bright smile. “Let's just say that I may have said something completely embarrassing when I first saw him,” he said.

“Oh, now you can't just leave it there,” Elizabeth said, giving a shake of her head. “You have to tell me more.”

“Oh no,” Nick replied. “That isn't something I intend to repeat. Ever.” He frowned. “If Hank would just stop going around telling people about it, maybe I could forget about it, too.”

“And Hank is?”

“My partner,” Nick explained. “He was there when I first saw the Captain.”

“Then perhaps I should get to know this Hank,” she suggested.

Nick gave her an unimpressed look. Elizabeth laughed in response, before sobering.

“I heard that the official announcement of your relationship was pushed forward due to Sean's father's political manoeuvring,” she said, “I hope you didn't find that too much of an inconvenience.”

Nick shrugged. “I admit I was surprised,” he said, “I really had no idea Frederick or Viktor were coming to visit until Sean asked me.”

Elizabeth smiled at Nick's use of their first names. “And you said yes,” she said.

“I said yes,” Nick agreed. 

“Have you ever regretted it?”

“Not at all.” As he spoke, Nick realised that he was telling the truth. Despite the inconvenience that was Viktor and, although to a lesser extent, Frederick, he had not regretted saying yes to Sean, not once.

“Good,” Elizabeth said. “I care for my son a great deal, and would hate for his other 'family',” she twisted the word as she spoke, as though they were something foul, “to interfere with the only relationship I have ever seen him in that makes him truly happy.” 

Nick blinked, taking in what she was saying. “I promise to do my best to ensure he stays happy,” he said.

“I know you will,” Elizabeth agreed. “And that is all a mother can ask, really.”

Nick smiled at her.

*

Sean returned to the sight of his mother and Nick smiling at each other as though they had come to some kind of agreement. He frowned. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Perfect,” his mother assured, transferring her smile to him. 

“Table's set,” Nick said, turning to smile at Sean as well. “All done?”

“For now,” Sean agreed.

*

They ate lunch in a kind of companionable warmth and laughter that, having met both Frederick and Viktor, Nick would never have expected from any of Sean's family. But it was abundantly apparent that Elizabeth was completely different to that other side of the family.

As he had that morning, Nick thoroughly enjoyed Sean's cooking, and informed him so.

Sean grinned. “Well,” he said, “I was promised some 'persuasion' later,” he said.

Nick laughed. “You were,” he agreed. He scraped his fork against his plate, attempting to retrieve all the last traces of the meal. Leaning back in his chair, Nick smiled, watching the lightness that suffused Sean at having his mother nearby.

“Well,” said Elizabeth, placing her knife and fork down on her plate and turning her to gaze to them. “I suppose it's time that I headed off.”

A quick grimace of pain, hastily concealed, crossed Sean's face.

“There's no need for that,” Nick assured her, reaching over to take her plate. “You're welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Perhaps,” she said, “and I thank you for the offer. However, I was once young, too, you know. And you have some 'persuasion' owing to my son.”

Nick blushed, turning away to dump the plates in the sink until the heat in his cheeks began to lessen. “I'm sure Sean won't mind waiting a bit longer,” he said. “Besides, he gets to see me every day.” Heading back over to the table, Nick looked straight into Elizabeth's eyes, trying to convey how very serious he was. “Stay,” he said. “Catch up with Sean – I know he'd like it if you did.”

“I would,” Sean admitted, shooting Nick a grateful look.

“If you're sure,” Elizabeth said.

“Absolutely,” Nick replied. “Besides, I have to go out anyway.”

“Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that.”

“You're not.” Leaning down over Sean's shoulder, making sure to brush up against him, he took Sean's plate. “Look,” he said, standing up again and turning back to Elizabeth. “I know you don't get to see Sean that often. As I said, I get to see him every day.”

“And night, too, I bet,” Elizabeth interjected.

Nick grinned, letting out a short laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Nights, too. So, really, it's no problem. You stay here and catch up with Sean. And I'll got hit things in the woods.”

“Hit things in the woods?” Sean asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to Nick. “Am I to assume from that that you are planning to meet up with Monroe this afternoon.”

“You are,” Nick agreed. “Besides, I have some frustration I should probably work off.”

Sean frowned. “There are Reapers out there,” he said. “And Verrat.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick agreed, waving one hand at Sean over his shoulder as he rinsed their plates. “And I've dealt with both before.” At Sean's silence he turned around, moving forward so that he could place his hands on Sean's shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “Hey,” he said. “Trust me. If I think there's any real danger, you'll know about it.” He grinned. “Besides, I'll be with Monroe. And I'll carry a big stick. You know we've dealt with these guys before.”

Sean frowned. “Make sure you text me regularly,” he said, “so that I know you're safe.” Nick rolled his eyes, but nodded.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed. “Really, don't worry. If the Reapers are travelling in pairs, then, well,” he shrugged, “I'm a lot better now than I was the first time they sent two after me, and I'm still here, aren't I?”

“You are,” Sean agreed, “and I'd like to keep it that way.”

Smiling, Nick leant down, pecking Sean on the lips. “So would I,” he agreed. “I'll be fine.”

Sean hummed, pulling Nick back in for what he deemed a proper kiss – one that lasted longer and involved tongue. Reluctantly pulling back, Nick gave Sean's shoulders a squeeze.

“I'll message you every hour,” he promised.

“Every half hour,” Sean replied. 

“Fine, every half hour.” Nick shook his head. “Enjoy your time with your mother.” He turned to Elizabeth. “It was lovely to meet you,” he said, “I can see now where Sean gets his good looks.”

Elizabeth laughed, while Sean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Charmer,” Elizabeth said. “Have fun hitting things.”

Giving a boyish grin, Nick hurried out of the room, Sean watching him go.

“You're worried about him,” Elizabeth said, gaze serious as she watched her son's face for any minute signs of his real emotions.

“I am,” Sean agreed. He sighed. “I know I shouldn't be, he's right, he has dealt with them before. He's an incredibly skilled grimm, and we're lucky he's not a traditional one or we'd all be in real trouble. But I still worry.”

“Of course you do,” Elizabeth agreed. “We always worry about the one's we love.”

Glancing up at her, Sean gave a rueful smile. “Is it really that obvious?” he asked.

“To me, yes,” she replied. “Though from what I hear, you've been pretty transparent to just about everyone else as well.” She smiled at him, reaching over to place her hand over his. “I'm glad. He's good for you.”

“You've only just met him.”

“And yet, already I can see the changes in you. You're happier. Happier than I've ever seen you before.”

Biting his lip, Sean glanced away.

*

Hurrying up the stairs, Nick grabbed his kanabo from his room, hefting it in his hand with a grin, while fishing his phone out of his pocket and hitting speed dial for Monroe.

“Nick,” Monroe said when he answered. “I thought you were spending the afternoon with your chosen.”

“I was,” Nick agreed, “but then Sean's mother showed up, so, I thought I'd give them some time alone to catch up.”

“His mother?” Monroe asked. “Huh. That, I did not see coming.”

Nick chuckled. “Me either,” he replied, “but I like her.”

“So she's not like the other side of the family?”

“Not at all.”

“And now you need something to do with your afternoon,” Monroe guessed.

“I figured, maybe, we could go out to the woods and hit a few things,” Nick suggested. He pulled a large knife from the drawer in his bedside table, along with a sheath that would fit it snugly against his back.

Monroe sighed. “I dunno,” he said.

“Come on,” Nick cajoled. “Hitting things, letting off some aggression. If we're lucky, we may even run into some Reapers or Verrat.”

“Some Reapers or Verrat?”

“Yeah, rumour is, they're both in town looking for me.” Fixing the knife to his back, Nick picked up his kanabo once more, before jogging back down the stairs.

“Oh boy,” Monroe said. “You really know how to encourage a guy to hang out, don't you?”

Grabbing his gun as he headed for the door, Nick waved to Sean and Elizabeth, lifting his jacket off the peg as he went.

“Fine,” Monroe said, the tone of his voice belying his grumbling words. “I'll meet you there?”

“Sure,” Nick agreed. “Bring something to hit?”

*

Pulling up where he usually did when he and Monroe decided to head out into the woods for some 'training' that was less training these days and more stress relief, Nick jumped out of his truck, stretching as he waited for Monroe to join him.

The blutbad soon arrived, and they began their trek down the path and deeper into the woods towards the clearing they tended to use.

“How aggressive are you feeling?” Monroe asked, hefting the bulging sack he had slung over his shoulder.

“Fairly,” Nick replied. “Sometimes I just wanna punch Viktor in the face.”

“Not Frederick?”

Nick shrugged. “So far,” he said, “he's been the less annoying of the two. I think, if I didn't know Viktor, I'd want to punch Frederick, but knowing Viktor tends to transfer all my violent tendencies towards him.”

Monroe chuckled. “That, I believe,” he said. 

They reached the clearing, spreading out as Nick did some quick warm up exercises and stretches, while Monroe moved to the side of the clearing to pull a large number of melons out of his sack.

“So,” he asked, “how do you wanna do this?”

“Blindfolded,” Nick replied. He shook his arms out, snatching the dark piece of material Monroe tossed his way from the air.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Monroe asked. “What if we get company?”

“Then I should hear them coming,” Nick replied. “Besides, with sight, it's too easy.”

“Okay.”

Wrapping the blindfold over his face, covering his eyes, Nick breathed deeply as his sight was cut off, centring himself and focusing on his hearing. Shifting his grip on his kanabo, he listened.

Shaking his head, Monroe grabbed one of the melons, tossing it lightly towards Nick. With a grin, Nick twisted, smacking it out of the air with enough force to smash the fruit into tiny pieces.

Monroe tossed another, high over Nick's head, with the same result. A third and fourth followed each other quickly, almost at the same time, to Nick's left and right. He hit them both.

A low one, practically skimming the ground, was smacked across to the other side of the clearing. Monroe shook his head.

“I don't know that this is a challenge any more, man,” he said.

Nick frowned. “Try moving around,” he said.

Shrugging, Monroe got to his feet, taking some of the fruit with him. Walking around the outside of the clearing he tossed more melons Nick's way. Each one was reduced to a shower of pulped fruit pieces, sprayed upon the ground.

As Nick moved, he felt his muscles relaxing, even as he worked them. His breathing evened out, and he took great pleasure in picturing Viktor's face each time his kanabo dashed another fruit to the ground.

“How long has it been?” Nick asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Uh, I dunno? Maybe a half hour?” Monroe suggested, pausing with the fruit in his hand. In response, Nick began digging in his pockets for his phone. “Nick?”

“I need to message Sean,” he replied. “I promised I'd do so every half hour so he knows I'm alive.” Nick frowned at Monroe's chuckle. “What?” he asked.

“You,” Monroe replied, “are the very definition of whipped, dude.”

Ignoring him, Nick turned his phone on, using the blindfold as practice in using the phone without sight. While he hadn't had to do so yet, he didn't want to get stuck in a situation where such skills would be useful and be unable to do so.

As he hit 'send' on the message, a simple: Still alive. Love you. He heard the telltale displacement of air. Tossing his phone up over his head, Nick stepped forward, swinging his kanabo round to smack into the incoming fruit. A step back and he reached up, plucking his phone, now headed back towards the earth, from the air.

Monroe whistled. “Now that,” he said, “is impressive. Think you could do it again?”

Nick grinned. “Sure,” he said. Then he paused, tilting his head to the side as he listened, one hand rising to warn Monroe to wait.

Frowning, Monroe began to lower the hand holding the fruit, watching Nick carefully for any indication of what the grimm could hear.

All was silent for a few moments, Nick tucking his phone away as he turned to face towards his left. Then the forest parted, two Reapers rushing out, scythes already extended. Not even bothering to remove his blindfold, Nick shifted his feet, centring himself and hefting the kanabo in his hands.

The Reapers moved towards him at the same time, smiles on their faces as they saw his blindfold. As though he could see them, Nick grinned fiercely back, baring his teeth. Ducking beneath the swipe of one Reaper, he spun his kanabo into the path of the other, forcing the Reaper's swing off course. 

A rustle from nearby indicated the arrival of more Reapers. Lifting his melon, Monroe took aim and threw. It whistled through the air, Nick leaning to the side to allow it to pass him harmlessly, before it smashed right into the face of one of the new Reapers.

Sliding to the ground, Nick kicked out with his legs, spinning on one hand as he took the feet out from beneath the first two Reapers, kanabo flashing up in an overhead strike to ward off the scythe of a third.

Flipping backwards to remove himself from the middle of the Reapers, Nick spun on his heel, smashing his kanabo into the back of one of the first two who was just struggling to his feet. There was a crunch, a gasp, and the Reaper slumped back towards the ground.

Snarling, the other three came at Nick.

“You want any help?” Monroe called, lifting another melon.

“Nah, I'm good,” Nick replied, taking the time to shoot a smile in Monroe's direction as he leant out of the way of another strike. “But if you feel like letting out some aggression, who am I to stop you?”

Infuriated by Nick's blasé attitude, and his ability to dodge them all while blindfolded, the Reapers moved to try and surround him once more.

A whistle and splat signalled another Reaper getting a face-full of melon. Monroe whooped.

“Oh yeah!” he exclaimed. 

Following up on Monroe's throw, Nick kicked one Reaper's scythe out of the way, while darting forward, left hand latching onto the pole of the melon-faced Reaper's scythe, while his right thwacked his kanabo into the third Reaper's arm.

Hissing, the third Reaper dropped his scythe, stumbling back. 

Hooking his foot around the second Reaper's leg, Nick pulled his feet from under him, spinning his kanabo to hit the Reaper's arms at the same time, making the Reaper release his scythe as he fell backwards.

Shifting his grip on the Scythe, Nick spun it to his left, catching it in a block against the first Reaper's scythe, before kicking out at the second's head, knocking him unconscious.

With two Reapers left, Nick spun the scythe in one hand and his kanabo in the other, listening closely. 

Monroe tossed another melon, distracting one of the Reapers long enough for Nick to take out the other. A quick swipe of his kanabo, followed by a sweep of the scythe, had the Reaper stumbling into the path of Nick's scythe, his belly split in two as his hands automatically dropped to try and hold his guts inside himself.

Stepping back, Nick spun on his heel, bringing the scythe up to block the stroke of the last Reaper. The Reaper pushed hard against their locked Scythe's trying to force Nick back, or to let go. Muscles straining, Nick held it in place, while tossing his kanabo into the air. 

It rose up, spinning end over end. Right hand freed, Nick placed it on the pole of his scythe, shoving hard. The Reaper stumbled backwards at the sudden force, Nick pushing the Reaper's scythe out and to the side, leaving the Reaper's body open.

Spinning his own scythe, Nick used the pole end to thump hard into the Reaper's gut, making the man bend over it pain. Reaching up, Nick grasped his kanabo as it spun back down towards him, snatching it from the air and turning it's momentum into a strike at the Reaper's hand.

There was an audible crunch as the kanabo met skull and the Reaper dropped.

Breathing deep, Nick reached up, lifting his blindfold. The field was covered with bits of pulverised melon, the bodies of three Reapers, and the unconscious form of another. Sighing, Nick moved over to the unconscious Reaper.

Dropping his kanabo, his pulled the long knife from his back. “Monroe,” he called. “Want to hold him for me?”

“Sure,” Monroe agreed, jogging over to him with a shake of his head. “Man, that was awesome!” he said. “You're getting good as this blindfolded thing.” Nick laughed.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I guess those red worms were good for something after all.” He paused. “Just don't tell Sean I didn't take the blindfold off 'til after.”

Monroe shot him an unimpressed look. “I make no promises,” he replied. “You may not fully realise it, but your relationship has firmly placed your chosen as this canton's Prince in the eyes of all wesen.” He shrugged. “If my prince asks me, I'll answer.”

“Fair enough,” Nick sighed. 

Reaching down, Monroe hauled the Reaper to his feet, pulling his arms behind his back as Nick slapped his face.

Blinking, the Reaper woke. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the clearing and his fallen companions. 

“So,” said Nick, holding the knife where the Reaper could easily see it. “I have a few questions to ask you.” The Reaper swallowed. Nick grinned.

*

Smiling as his mother laughed, Sean leant back into the couch. She was right, he couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy. His rule was acknowledged by the wesen in his canton, his chosen was deftly dealing with both his father and cousin at every turn, and he was catching up with his mother in person for the first time in many years.

The buzzing of his phone drew his attention, and Sean pulled it from his pocket, frowning as he saw the name of one of his contacts on the screen. He glanced up at his mother.

“Answer it,” she said, “I'll still be here.”

Giving her a nod and smile, Sean lifted the phone to his ear. “Yes?”

Elizabeth watched the emotions that crossed her son's face as he listened to his contact's report. There was no doubt in her mind that her son was deeply in love with his chosen.

Ending the call, Sean glanced towards his mother. “Reapers were seen entering the woods near where Nick and Monroe like to train,” he said.

“Call him,” Elizabeth replied, an understanding look crossing her face. “You'll feel better once you do.”

Glancing down at his phone, Sean let his finger run over the text from Nick, sent only ten minutes ago. Still Alive. Love you.

He called Nick.

*

“Who sent you?” Nick asked, moving the blade of his knife up to press against the Reaper's throat. The Reaper scowled in response, glaring at him. Nick sighed. “If you don't answer,” he said, “I'm going to have to cut you.”

“Everyone knows you're not a traditional grimm,” the Reaper replied. 

Nick sighed again. “Why does everyone always say that to me?” he asked Monroe. “Just because I don't go around killing and maiming indiscriminately, doesn't mean I can't, or won't, when I need to.”

“Who knows,” Monroe replied, giving a shrug. “It's like people think, just because I'm vegetarian, I can't still kill.”

“Well, we both know that's not true,” Nick agreed easily, turning back to the Reaper. “You know,” he said, “I can easily guess who sent you, but really, it would be so much easier on you if you just told me.”

The Reaper snarled at him, pressing forward enough that Nick's blade sliced through the first few layers of skin. 

Nick's phone rang. Glancing down, he pulled it from his pocket. “Hey Sean,” he said.

“Nick,” Sean replied. “Reapers were seen entering the woods.” 

“I know,” Nick replied, glancing around him. Keeping an ear on the Reaper, he was able to shift his hand, slicing a cut across the Reaper's chest when he tried to lunge forward. The Reaper cried out.

“Ah,” Sean said, “I see.” A pause. “I take it you're fine?”

“Of course,” Nick agreed. “Just getting a name from the last one still alive,” he explained.

“A name?”

“So I know who to send my regards to,” Nick replied. “It would be only right, after all, wouldn't it?”

“Hmmm,” Sean agreed. “I suppose we should be polite and give our regards,” he agreed, then his voice darkened. “Though I doubt there is any real question as to who sent them.” 

“No,” Nick agreed. He glanced back at the Reaper, who was glaring at him. 

“You know,” Sean said conversationally, “I always find it best to send four lots of regards rather than three – particularly when they've been so kind as to send four messages to you.”

“That is true,” Nick agreed. “Four is better than three.”

The Reaper paled, staring at him. “It was the Prince,” he spat out. “He contacted us, asking for your death.” He grinned. “Before retracting his statement – but your insults to us have been too great for us to ignore.”

“Nick,” Sean said, something in his voice causing Nick to focus fully on him. As though Sean was about to ask something incredibly important, but that he wasn't sure if Nick would agree with it. Sean drew a deep breath. “This Reaper has broken the laws of the canton,” Sean said. “All Reapers are forbidden from entering without my express permission. On pain of death.”

“Understood,” Nick replied. He looked back at the Reaper. Hissing, the Reaper tried to fling himself forward, held back by Monroe's grip on his arms, but still managing an aborted jerk towards Nick.

Twisting his knife, Nick let it slide into the Reaper's heart as the Reaper jerked against it. Pushing the knife all the way in, before drawing it out, Nick watched as the Reaper slumped forward, dead.

“The law is upheld,” he said into his phone.

There was silence, and Nick could imagine Sean slumping slightly in relief, eyes closed, before straightening up. “Thank you,” Sean said. “And stay safe. There are still Hundjagers out there.”

“I will,” Nick agreed.

“Keep texting me.”

“Yes, Captain,” Nick teased, rolling his eyes. 

*

Hanging up his phone, Sean let out a large breath, sinking down onto the couch beside his mother. Reaching over, Elizabeth placed her hand on his shoulder. “I take it your Nick is fine?” she asked.

“He is,” Sean agreed. He gave her a wry grin. “But that doesn't mean I'm fine.”

Squeezing his shoulder, Elizabeth moved closer, pulling him into a hug. “He's fine,” she repeated. “As you said, he's incredibly talented. He's already dealt with half the threat, which only leaves the other half. And weren't you just telling me that he's taken out four hundjagers before?”

“Not on his own,” Sean grumbled.

“No,” Elizabeth agreed, “but then again, he's not on his own right now, either, is he?”

*

“So,” said Monroe, letting the dead Reaper slump to the ground. “Heads?”

“Heads,” Nick agreed. “We need to pay our regards after all.”

*

With the heads of four Reapers in his truck, their bodies hauled away and buried in the woods, Nick headed towards the station. He was fairly sure that Captain Benson would be interested in an update on the movement of the Reapers in Portland – and the fact that they were no longer a threat.

He would also have to organise to send the Reaper's heads back to their leader at some stage.

Arriving at the station, Nick hopped out of his truck, pulling out his phone as slammed the door, beginning a text to Sean. Still Alive, he typed, before pausing, glancing up and around. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he ducked down just as a figure rushed at him with a snarl. Nick sighed. Hundjagers. Really, did they never learn?

*

Heading into the parking garage below the precinct, officer Griegg paused at a sound. Creeping forward, he peered around the corner, eyes widening as he saw Detective Burkhardt – the grimm – tossing a hundjager over his shoulder, kicking out at another and ducking the punch of a third.

Fumbling for his phone, Griegg hit the number for Captain Benson.

“Benson,” the steinadler answered.

“Captain,” Griegg said. “The hundjagers are here. Burkhardt's fighting them in the garage.”

The line cut off, but Griegg wasn't offended. He was sure the Captain was already on his way, all the while ordering others to join him.

Peering back around the corner, Griegg winced as he watched Nick toss a hundjager against one of the large concrete poles that held up the roof of the garage. Drawing his gun, Griegg crept forward, watching for an opening.

*

“Seriously?” Nick asked as the hundjagers came back at him once again. He sighed. “You know,” he said companionably as he ducked between one hundjager's swing, kicking out at another and sending him crashing backwards onto the ground. “I've already killed four Reapers today, I was hoping to leave the body count at that.”

Snarling, claws and teeth extended, a hundjager rushed him. Using the hundjager's own momentum to toss him over his shoulder, Nick spun out of the way of another, before smashing a third's face hard up against a pole. Side-stepping a fourth, Nick got his arm around the hundjager's neck. A quick twist, and a snap followed, Nick letting the body fall to the ground. 

A shot rang out, one of the hundjager's stumbling, as they all turned towards the shooter. Taking the opportunity presented, Nick slipped open the door of his truck, snatching up his kanabo, spinning around to thrust it into a hundjager's face, sending him to the ground.

Jumping up so that his feet ran across the side of a pole, Nick pushed himself away from the pole, feet smashing into the faces of two hundjager as he used his kanabo to crush the skull of a third. Landing on the ground, he felt his phone begin to ring in his pocket. 

*

Pacing, Sean waited for Nick to pick up. The grimm should have messaged him by now to inform Sean that he was still alive. He knew, logically, that there were any number of reasons for Nick not having texted him yet. Not least of which was the grimm simply forgetting.

But he couldn't get rid of the ball of anxiety in his stomach. So he paced, waiting for Nick to pick up.

*

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Nick answered the call, setting it on speaker and leaving it on the hood of his truck as he drew the hundjager's away slightly.

“Hey,” he called, hoping the phone would pick him up. There was a pause, then,

“Nick?” Sean's voice came from the phone.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, “still alive.”

“You didn't text.”

“Got a little busy,” Nick explained. Ducking a punch, he smacked the hundjager in the groin with his kanabo.

*

“Yes, I can hear that,” Sean replied, fingers tightening around his phone as he heard the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

Standing up, Elizabeth came over to Sean, wrapping an arm around him. Sean leant back into her, glad for her comfort.

Through the phone, he could hear something scrape, followed by a cry of 'Portland PD! Freeze!' Then a gunshot.

*

Turning his body to lessen the impact of the fist hitting his side, Nick kicked out at his attacker, while trying to keep the other hundjagers in his sight. It seemed they'd learned from the last time and weren't shy in sending numbers after him.

Striking hard at the approaching hundjagers with his kanabo, Nick backed up. Feeling the hood of a car behind him, he rolled backwards over it, kicking out with his feet as he went. The sound of footsteps came, and he grinned. They were coming from the police station above, getting nearer.

“Portland PD!” Captain Benson snapped as he entered the garage followed by a number of other officers. “Freeze!”

The hundjagers snarled, spinning between Nick and Benson. Nick bared his teeth in appreciation as he saw them realise just how many wesen were among the officers that had come to his aid. Still, hundjagers weren't known for stepping down without a fight.

Two rushed towards Benson and the officers, one falling to a shot from Benson's gun. Shoving himself to his feet, Nick ran towards the officers, knowing they would be safer in numbers, and not split up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Officer Griegg lining up another shot.

Seeing Nick's movement, three hundjagers lunged after him. Dropping to the ground and skidding across the floor, Nick managed to slide beneath their swinging claws, Griegg's shot taking one out, another shot – Nick didn't see from who – taking out a second.

Rolling to his feet as he came to a halt, Nick drove himself upwards, ramming his shoulder into a hundjager approaching Benson from behind. He felt a hit connect with his face, pain blossoming across his cheek, before claws raked down the left side of his back.

Spinning, Nick smacked his kanabo into the attacking hundjager, driving him backwards. Around him, guns fired, wesen officers woging as they refused to give the hundjagers any leeway. Turning back to the hundjager he'd forced away from Benson, Nick watched as the hundjager fell at his feet, red spreading across his chest from the bullet wound.

There was a kind of silence – the kind that is loud with the absence of the sound of fighting, even as the harsh breaths of those left standing filled the space.

Turning slowly, Nick took in the garage. Twelve hundjagers lay on the ground – most dead, a couple still breathing. Around him, angry wesen woged and shifted in place, hissing or growling as they surveyed the hundjagers. He turned to Benson.

“Thanks,” Nick said, giving a lop-sided grin.

Benson frowned. “We look after our own,” he said, glaring at the bodies around them. “Besides, it's Officer Griegg who alerted us.”

Nick turned to Griegg. “Then thank you,” he said. Ducking his head, Griegg nodded.

“All right,” Benson called out. “Time to clean up. Williams, get the body bags. Thace, contact emergency regarding those still alive. Trent – do a check of the bodies.” He turned to Nick. “And you should answer your phone properly.” Glancing over towards where his phone still sat on the hood of his truck, Nick grimaced, nodding. “Burkhardt,” Benson added as Nick stepped away. Nick turned to look at him. “You'll need to write a report, too,” he said, “especially concerning what happened to your gun,” he gave a pointed look to the kanabo still resting in Nick's hands. “But that can wait 'til Monday.” He jerked his head towards Nick's phone. Nodding, Nick jogged over to his truck.

*

Listening to the sounds of the fighting, unable to do anything – knowing he'd never get to the station in time to be of any use, Sean paced around Nick's living room. He wanted to be there. With the grimm. Helping him. Protecting his back. 

He could hear the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the sharp retort of gunshots. Could almost taste the gunpowder as he listened. Straining to hear anything that would let him know how Nick was.

Then the fighting stopped. All he could hear was the breaths of those left alive. Was Nick one of them?

He wanted to call out, to ask Nick to answer him – to demand a response. But he knew there were officers there, those who looked up to him, as a Police Captain, and also as their Prince. He couldn't show any weakness. 

Scowling, Sean paced. Watching him, Elizabeth ached to reach out and hold him, but Sean had shrugged her touch off when the urge to do something had outweighed his desire for comfort. 

Distantly, Sean heard Captain Benson begin to give out orders, the sound muffled by distance. There was a pause, then a scrape as the phone on the other end of the line was lifted.

“Sean?” Nick's voice came through, clear and alive. He was alive.

Breath leaving him in a woosh, Sean also felt his knees give way as his body relaxed, sending him towards the floor. Strong arms wrapped around him as Elizabeth steadied him, guiding him over to a couch.

“Nick,” he managed to get out, more a breath than anything else.

There was a pause. “Hey, I'm okay,” Nick said, as though realising just how worried Sean had been. “I'm fine, Sean. Still alive.” There was a grin in his voice.

“I need to see you,” Sean said.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, “yeah. I'll be there soon.” There was the sound of a car door opening.

“Don't hang up,” Sean added, swallowing against his dry throat. He wanted to get himself back under control – he wasn't supposed to lose control like this. He was calm and collected and never let his control slip for a moment. But it was slipping. As always, where Nick was concerned, all his rules for himself seemed to leave in order to make room for the grimm.

“I won't,” Nick assured him. “I'm right here. Not going anywhere. Hey,” he added, “on a good note – I guess we don't have to worry about the Reapers or Hundjagers any more, huh?”

Shaking his head, Sean let out a short laugh – more relief than humour - “I guess not,” he agreed.

*

As he left the undercover garage, Nick rolled his eyes to see a couple of unmarked cars following him, wesen officers in the driver's seats. Still, it was nice to know they cared.

He drove in silence, simply listening to the sound of Sean's breath over the phone, and certain that the other man was doing the same thing. 

He kept an eye out, travelling the familiar route easily, even with the backtracking he did to check for any tails other than his discreet police escort. Seeing no sign of any Reapers, Hungjager, or any other threats, Nick instead took in the bright sunshine, the hum and bustle of people's lives, and the comfort that came from familiar surroundings. 

Pulling to a stop outside the house, he sighed. “I'm here,” he said.

“I know,” came Sean's voice from the phone.

Stepping out of the truck, Nick glanced over to where his two escorts had both pulled over. “I'm fine, guys,” he said, “really.” When they simply looked at him, he sighed once more. “Hey,” he said, “trust me, I doubt I'm going to be alone again for a very long time. I'm good. You can go.”

The officers exchanged glances, gazes snapping to the front door as it opened and Sean stepped out. Though he looked mostly the same as he always did, clothing neat and crisp, standing tall, there was something about him that was slightly... off.

Nick wasn't sure how to explain it other than that, but he was sure it had something to do with the events of the afternoon. And that Sean wasn't nearly as calm or composed as he appeared.

The Captain's gaze swept over Nick – from head to toe – before moving on to the officers. He gave them a nod, subtly indicating that they could leave. Engines started, and they did so, Nick turning to face Sean.

He gave a crooked grin. Sean frowned.

“You worried me,” he said, moving towards Nick, hands reaching out for the grimm as though moving on their own.

“Hey,” Nick said, hurrying forward into Sean's personal space, allowing the Captain's hands trace lightly over the bruising on his face before moving to close around his shoulders. “I'm here,” Nick said, “I'm fine.” Sean's hands trembled minutely, causing Nick to press closer, until they were touching from shoulders to knees. His arms came up around Sean's waist, as he tucked himself firmly against the taller man.

Sean's breath left him in a sigh, his hands moving from Nick's shoulders as his arms tightened around the grimm, pulling him impossibly closer. Turning his head, Sean breathed in the scent of Nick, felt the thump of the grimm's heart against his own chest, and the pulse of warm blood beneath his skin.

“You're okay,” Sean murmured, “you're okay.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, swallowing as he heard a vulnerability in Sean's voice that he'd never heard from the other man before. “I am,” he said. “I'm okay and I'm here.”

After a long moment, Nick drew back slightly, just enough so that he could look up at Sean. 

“Why don't we go inside?” he asked, nudging against Sean's hip with his own. Loosening his grip, Sean nodded, beginning to back up. He didn't let go of Nick. Not as he pulled him back towards the door with him, not as they moved into the house, nor as he dragged Nick over to the couch.

Letting himself fall backwards onto the couch, Sean pulled Nick down with him, so that the shorter man was practically sitting in his lap. Closing his eyes, he simply held Nick to him, focusing on the beat of his heart and the warmth of his body.

Sinking into Sean's embrace, Nick let his breath out slowly as he relaxed, entire body going boneless as he snuggled into Sean. This, this was something he could definitely get used to.

*

He wasn't sure how long they sat like that. Long enough for the afternoon sunlight to move towards evening, sun dropping low towards the horizon. Outside, life was winding down, a few lights coming on here and there. 

Stirring, Sean sat upright, glancing at Nick. Nick smiled at him, but said nothing. It felt, somehow, as though what they'd just shared was infinitely precious and fragile, and he didn't want to break it by saying anything too soon.

“I suppose,” said Sean, “that we should pay my father a visit.” He scowled as he spoke, making Nick's smile widen.

“Good,” Nick said. “Because, as fine as I am – and I am,” he added, shooting Sean a glance when the older man's arms tightened reflexively around him, “I am really not pleased with the way things have been handled while he's been around.”

“Neither am I,” Sean assured him. “And he won't be around much longer. Neither will Viktor.”

“Still,” said Nick, “I suppose going to see them tonight would suggest Viktor's actions have made an impact.” Sean turned to give him a considering look. Nick shrugged. “I just figured you wouldn't want him to think he had any power over you,” he said. “If we wait 'til tomorrow, it suggests he's really not that high up on our priorities.”

“That is true,” Sean agreed, but he frowned.

“What?” Nick asked.

“He can't get away with this,” Sean said. “He can't be allowed to think that his actions in my canton will go unanswered.”

Nick hummed in agreement. “First thing tomorrow, then?” he asked. 

“Nine o'clock,” Sean decided, “early enough that he knows we're serious and won't tolerate his actions, but not so early that we appear concerned by them.” He grinned, “you're getting good at this,” he said. Unconsciously, Sean's hands moved from where they had settled on Nick's hips when he sat up, to drift lazily across the small of the grimm's back beneath his shirt.

Arching into the contact, Nick hissed lightly. “Well,” he said, “I do have a good teacher.” He grinned. Then glanced around. “What happened to your mother?” he asked.

Sean paused his exploration of Nick's smooth, muscled back, glancing around them. “I'm not sure,” he replied, a light pang passing through him as he considered that she might have left.

“Come on, then,” Nick said, pushing himself to his feet and pulling Sean up after him, “let's go look for her.”

*

They found Elizabeth in the kitchen, an array of ingredients spread out over the benches as she poured over a cookbook. She looked up as they entered and smiled at them.

“You're up,” she said, as though they'd simply been taking a nap, “good. I thought I'd whip something up for dinner – save either of you needing to cook.”

“Mother -” Sean began, but Nick cut him off.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a nod. “We appreciate it.”

“Now, off with you to clean up,” she instructed, glancing between them. Looking down, Sean realised that some of the blood which had been coating Nick had soaked into his own clothing.

“I'm fine,” Nick repeated at the dark look that crossed Sean's face. Reaching out, he grasped Sean's hand and pulled him from the kitchen.

*

“You're injured,” Sean stated flatly, watching as Nick shrugged out of his jacket, standing in the en-suite bathroom. Nick glanced up, looking at Sean in the mirror. 

“I'm fine,” he said. “Just a couple of bruises and a scratch.”

Sean shook his head. “I should have taken you straight to the hospital,” he said, scowl crossing his face. “Benson should have never let you leave without getting you checked over.”

Dropping his jacket into the laundry basket, Nick walked over to Sean. “I'm fine,” he repeated, reaching out and grabbing Sean's hand so that it rested over his chest, the beat of his heart fluttering beneath Sean's fingers. “I don't need the hospital, or even a doctor. And I've had far worse before.”

Somehow, that didn't seem to reassure Sean quite as much as Nick was hoping it would. He sighed.

“Look,” Nick said. “I enjoyed what we did earlier – I really enjoyed it. And right then, it was far more comforting and healing than anything else.” He stared into Sean's eyes, willing him to understand – when Nick himself wasn't entirely sure just what it was he was saying. “Now,” he said. “Why don't I have a shower, and then you can poke and prod at my bruises and scratches as much as you want.”

Stepping away from Sean, Nick continued to strip, dumping his clothes in the basket, before turning the shower on. He clenched his teeth as he stepped under the spray, refusing to hiss at the sting of the water against the scratches on his back as he had no doubt that such a sound would somehow manage to send his 'fake' lover into even more of a frenzy of worry for him.

The bathroom door remained open as Nick showered. He made no move to close it himself, and neither did Sean. The comfort of being able to hear Nick moving around, to glance up and see his figure through the frosted glass – it reassured Sean that Nick was okay. And he couldn't seem to make himself let go of that small comfort, no matter how many times he told himself that his fears were completely illogical.

While Nick showered, Sean removed his clothing, replacing it with fresh ones he had taken from the apartment the night before. There was something about seeing his clothing hanging in the wardrobe next to Nick's that gave him a sharp sense of pride and satisfaction. 

Turning the shower off, Nick stepped out grabbing a towel to dry himself – he didn't even think about the fact that the bathroom door was open. With most of the water removed from his skin, Nick wrapped the towel around his waist, moving back into the bedroom.

Sean looked up as he approached. The taller man had changed into a comfortable-looking pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Nick's mouth went dry and he paused, eyeing the way Sean's sweats hung low on his hips and his t-shirt clung tightly to every muscle. He swallowed.

Sweeping his gave over Nick, Sean's eyes narrowed, darkening as they took in the sight of the large bruise resting on Nick's right side.

Moving forward, Sean reaching out, hands lightly tracing over the bruise, before turning Nick around so that he could see the grimm's back. Sean's lips pursed. Nick didn't have one scratch – he had five, running in a line down the left side of his back, from just below his shoulder to just above where Sean's hands had stroked earlier over the small of Nick's back. They were obviously made by claws.

“What am I going to do with you?” Sean asked, fingers running lightly down the red lines. They had stopped bleeding and weren't that deep, more annoying than anything else. Still, the image of his chosen, injured, had a fury burning in Sean's gut that he hadn't felt for a long time, if ever. It was stronger and sharper than the fury he had felt in the past when his orders had been discarded, or Nick had been placed in danger. Something about their fake relationship had changed him, and the way he saw Nick, already.

“You won't need stitches,” Sean said. In response, Nick shrugged.

“Didn't think so,” he replied. “That, I would have told you about.” He turned his head to shoot a grin over his shoulder, but Sean wasn't smiling. Instead, eyes intense and focused, he ran his hands all over Nick's back, from the top of his shoulders, down the smooth skin on the right of his upper back, the scratches on the left side, his spine, the smooth skin of his lower, until they came to rest on Nick's towel.

For a moment, Nick held his breath, wondering if Sean would continue his exploration lower down. There was nothing sexual in Sean's touch, which could almost be called clinical, save for the reverent tenderness that accompanied each touch as though he still couldn't quite believe Nick was alive and there and letting Sean touch him in order to reassure himself.

Turning Nick once more, Sean repeated the process across his grimm's front, taking extra care as he moved over the bruising on his side. That finished, he moved to Nick's arms, examining and checking each side, the backs and palms of his hands, pads of his fingers – nothing escaped Sean's careful touch.

Strong hands smoothed up Nick's neck, feeling the younger man's pulse as it beat through his jugular. Nick simply stood there, allowing Sean to do whatever it was he needed to do to reassure himself that Nick was all right. He knew, considering the past few years he'd had, that he should probably be somewhat concerned about having someone's hands around his neck. But there was no concern, no fear or hesitation – only trust. 

Sean's hands reached Nick's face, again being extra careful with the bruising across his left cheek, but leaving no area unchecked. Moving into Nick's hair, Sean's fingers stroked confidently over his scalp, checking for bumps or scrapes.

Pausing with his hands at the base of Nick's head, Sean leant in, placing a gentle kiss against the bruise on his left cheek, then another and another, until he had kissed every inch of it, his lips feather-light against Nick's skin.

Turning Nick around, Sean continued his ministrations, placing light kisses across the tops of each of the five scratches, before slowly moving his way down them, kissing as he went. Nick shivered, skin incredibly sensitive, but he said nothing, made no sound in fear that Sean would stop if he did so.

As he moved down the scratches, Sean sank to his knees. Reaching the bottom of each scratch, he turned Nick around once more. Nick's eyes widened and he swallowed at the sight of Sean, kneeling before him.

Leaning up, Sean pressed kisses over the bruising on Nick's side, taking care not to leave any part untouched. That finished, Sean let his hands drop to rest against Nick's hips. There was a look in his eyes that Nick wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but he was sure that it was something important. Slowly, Sean drew himself back up, fingers pressing against Nick's hips.

Nick shifted. “You can keep going, you know,” he said, “if you want.” He glanced up at Sean from under his eyelashes, not entirely sure whether Sean had stopped because he was now satisfied with his examination of the grimm, or if he had stopped because he somehow felt it was crossing a line to go any further.

Sean's hands tightened on his hips, the look that crossed his face for a moment assuring Nick that Sean did want to go further. He doubted the other man would be satisfied until he'd examined every inch of skin, assuring himself that Nick had no dangerous injuries.

Reaching down, Nick slipped his towel free from his hips, tossing it to the side. Meeting Sean's eyes, he gave a nod.

Swallowing, Sean sank to his knees before Nick, letting his hands run over the smooth skin of Nick's thighs. He continued his examination as thoroughly and tenderly as he had touched Nick's upper body.

Pausing at a bruise on the outside of Nick's knee, he frowned. Nick chuckled.

“That's not from today,” he said. “Well, not from either of the fights,” he amended. “I bumped it this morning.”

Sean frowned, not remembering any such incident. “When?” he asked.

Nick sighed, rolling his eyes. “When I had to go looking for you because you left the bed,” he said. 

Sean's frown deepened, making Nick reach down to grab his face, turning it to look up at him. “Hey,” he said. “Not your fault I was a little clumsy this morning. And not your fault for anything else, either.” 

“They're my family,” Sean said.

“Yeah, well,” Nick replied, “you can't choose your family. Besides, apparently my Aunt was a mass-murdering grimm, so I can hardly claim my family's perfect, either.”

Shaking his head, Sean let a small smile cross his face, before pressing a soft kiss to the bruise and returning to checking his chosen over for injuries.

*

Once Sean had reassured himself that Nick was, in fact, fine, he had gone to fetch some antiseptic cream for his scratches, and anti-inflammatory cream for his bruises. 

Having Sean rub the creams into his skin with the same kind of tenderness he'd displayed so far, Nick leant into the touch. While there was a light pain from his injuries being pressed upon, the comfort of Sean's ministrations was too great to not press against.

Injuries tended to, Nick followed Sean's example in slipping on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Grabbing a sweatshirt as well, he tugged it on, before moving to wrap Sean in a hug.

“Thank you,” he said, squeezing the other man tight for a moment, before letting go and stepping back. Bemusedly, Sean watched him go, heading back down the hall towards the stairs.

Shaking his head, Sean moved to follow.

*

Elizabeth was just finishing dinner as they arrived in the kitchen, turning to bestow them with another smile as she took them in. “Well,” she said, “you two look much better. I'm almost finished here, so why don't you set the table?”

Within minutes the table was set and Elizabeth was transferring the food to it. As she moved back past Nick, she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I'm glad you're okay,” she said.

Shooting her a smile, Nick nodded.

*

Dinner was a humorous affair, leaving Sean sitting back in his seat and simply watching as Nick and his mother traded stories about him. He was sure that, on any other day, he would have tried to step in and stop them, but he was still feeling far too relieved at Nick's safety to do much more than watch.

Smiling at yet another story of Sean's childhood, Nick glanced over to the man. There was a small smile on his lips, and a lightness to his eyes that Nick loved to see. Reaching over, he gave Sean's hand a squeeze.

“I would have loved to have known you as a kid,” he said.

“Perhaps,” Sean agreed. “Or perhaps you would not.” He paused. “I wouldn't give up what we have now,” he admitted, somewhat surprised by his own honesty.

Nick's grip on his hand tightened. “No,” he agreed, “neither would I.”

*

Shooing Elizabeth from the kitchen, Nick and Sean took care of the clean-up, washing and drying easily as they fell into the familiar rhythm of moving around and with each other. Watching them, Elizabeth smiled.

Despite his words to her earlier, his concern, and his rather public announcement of his Choice, she wondered whether her son really knew just how much he was in love with the grimm.

Still, as the grimm seemed to be equally enamoured with her son – well, she was content to sit back and watch their relationship unfold.

*

Putting away the last dish, Nick stretched. His shirt rode up a little, Sean's eyes dropping to fix on the small strip of skin that was just visible.

“Well,” said Elizabeth, entering the room. “I suppose it's time for me to be off. You two could certainly use a good night's sleep.” The smile on her face as she glanced between them, and the tone of her voice, left Nick blushing, even as he replied.

“There's no need for that,” he said, “we have a guest bedroom. You're welcome to stay.”

Elizabeth paused, looking between them as though trying to decide just how welcome she'd be. Reaching out, Sean placed his hand on her shoulder. “Please?” he asked.

Elizabeth caved.

*

Slipping into bed beside Sean, Nick sighed, body relaxing back into the mattress. It had certainly been an eventful day. Still, he was fine, Sean was fine, the reapers and verrat had been dealt with, and Sean's mother was happily and comfortably ensconced in the spare bedroom.

At that thought, Nick's musing came to an abrupt halt and he swallowed.

The mother of the man he was lying in bed next to was just down the hall. A blush spread over his cheeks, much as he tried to stop it.

“What is it?” Sean asked softly, somehow picking up on his change in mood, perhaps by how still and rigid he'd become in an attempt to control himself.

Nick shook his head. “I just,” he said, “your mother is just down the hall.”

Sean frowned. “Yes,” he agreed. “You put her there.”

“I know,” Nick said, “and I'm glad she's there, I'm glad you can have this time with her.”

“But?”

Nick laughed. “But, the mother of the man I'm lying in bed next to is just down the hall.”

Rolling onto his side, Sean looked at Nick. “Is this the first time you've slept in the same house as one of the parents of your partner?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Nick said, also rolling to face him. “I guess it is.” He bit his lip. “Aunt Marie was never around enough to really worry about by the time I was looking to bring anyone home, and Juliette's parents live far enough away it was never an option.”

“They never came to stay?”

“Nah, we went to visit them, once, but we stayed in a hotel.” Shifting closer to Sean, Nick reached out with his leg, twining it with Sean's and tugging the other man closer to him. Moving with Nick, Sean allowed himself to be pulled closer, reaching out to wrap his arms around Nick. 

Letting his nose drift along the line of Sean's neck, Nick tilted his head back, lips brushing feather-light over Sean's chin, before moving towards his lips. Behind them, the door opened, causing Nick to jump, springing backwards as much as he could with Sean's arms wrapped around him tightly, as his head spun to take in the sight of Elizabeth standing in the doorway.

“Are you two sure you don't mind me staying here tonight?” she asked. “I'm sure you want to be close after the events of the day.”

Groaning, Nick buried his face in Sean's chest. 

Elizabeth blinked, before grimacing. “I'm sorry,” she said, “I'm interrupting, aren't I?”

“Just a bit,” Sean replied, voice filled with frustration. Reaching up, Nick slapped at his chest.

“Be nice,” he ordered. Then, with a sigh, Nick turned to face Sean's mother. “We're sure,” he said. “You're welcome to stay any time, for as long as you want. Besides,” he added with a grin, one that Sean knew often spelled trouble coming from the grimm, “one, or even a few, nights or weeks without sex isn't exactly going to kill us.”

Groaning, Sean tilted his head back so that he was staring at the ceiling. Sex wasn't exactly something he wanted to talk with his mother about. Ever. 

Considering the fact that he and Nick were also not having sex, at all, there was the added frustration of both knowing this and hearing the implication in Nick's words that they generally had regular sex. 

“Well,” said Elizabeth, “I'll just let you get back to it, then.” Turning, she paused in the doorway. “And,” she added, “if you do feel the need for some... reassurance... know that I won't be listening, and I'd never judge you.” Giving them a cheerful smile, she moved out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Groaning, Sean lifted one arm so that it covered his eyes. He could feel his cheeks burning and knew they would be a red colour he tried to avoid at all costs.

“She delights in embarrassing me,” Sean complained.

Pressing his face back into Sean's chest, Nick chuckled. “I think that's the role of all parents,” he replied. Running his hand up and down Sean's bare side he added, “relax. It's no big deal.”

Grumbling, Sean felt himself start to relax under Nick's caress. “Meddlesome mothers,” he muttered.

Grinning into Sean's skin, Nick pressed a kiss there as he chuckled once more.

Tightening his arms around Nick, Sean drifted towards sleep. He admitted, if only to himself, that he wouldn't be nearly as annoyed at his mother's comments if he and Nick were actually sleeping together. In all honesty, there was nothing more he'd like than to fully ensure the grimm was completely alive and likely to stay that way by slowly examining every inch of him once more, and then reassuring himself of Nick's stamina and strength by fucking him into the mattress (he ignored the whisper in the back of his mind that replaced that phrase with 'making love').

Shifting slightly so that the evidence of the direction his thoughts had taken wouldn't press into Nick, Sean let sleep tug him further under, beckoning him with enticing images of what it might be like to truly claim the grimm.


	8. Day Six - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Elizabeth, Nick and Sean finally have that meeting with Frederick and Viktor, and Viktor proves that he really is even more of an ass than anyone thought. Nick is very not impressed.  
> (and Sean and Nick and both cute and clueless as always, though perhaps a little less clueless than in the past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it feels like lately I start each chapter with apologies for how long it's taken me to update. If anyone wants to know why, I'll mention it below. I will say, while I still want to and will try to update weekly as I used to, it may be more realistic to say fortnightly. But I'm hoping that things in RL will improve and I'll get back to weekly updates.  
> Also, WARNINGS: for some mild homophobic language from a teenager in this one. 
> 
> (So, basically, the reason this is late is that, as some of you know, I suffer from mental illness. Part of that is that I take medication for it. Recently, it was suggested that I try switching medications as the one I was on seemed to have done all it could for me. If you've ever been on these kind of meds, you know that switching them is always... interesting. It's a bit like PMS x 4. Emotions, hormones, moods, everything gets affected. Then, when I was on the new meds, they didn't actually help, but instead made me feel like I was wandering around in a fog and my head was stuffed full of cotton wool. Plus some other lovely side effects. I would sit down to write and my mind would simply go blank. So, of course, I went back and got put back on the old meds. Which of course meant all the fun of changing meds all over again - which I'm still dealing with currently, but already things are much better as I can think again.  
> So, the majority of this chapter was written these past two days).

 

 

 

 

Nick woke tangled up in Sean. Letting his mind slowly drift awake, eyes closed, he was surrounded in warmth and the strange feeling of not quite knowing where he ended and the other man began. Each breath brought him the scent of Sean, and that of cooking eggs.

 

Frowning, Nick lifted his head, blinking his eyes open as he glanced across at his bedside clock. It was still relatively early – just before seven. A soft clacking sound came from downstairs. Along with the smells of cooking, he guessed Elizabeth must be up and preparing breakfast for them.

 

Weak sunlight straggled in through the windows, the sky overcast and heavy with the promise of rain. Dropping his head back down to Sean's chest, Nick listened to the beat of the Captain's heart. He knew that his alarm would ring off shortly, and it would be time to start his day.

 

But he had a few more minutes of calm before that. A few more minutes to simply lie there and bask in the warmth and security he felt from Sean.

 

For a moment, Nick wondered how he would cope once their 'fake' relationship was over. How he would go back to sleeping alone. To waking by himself. Then he pushed those thoughts aside, unwilling to let them taint the contentment he was feeling.

 

That was something he could think about later. (And perhaps he'd never have to find out – but that was a thought he kept buried so deep he almost wasn't even aware of it).

 

*

 

Sean woke to the feel of Nick's fingers, tracing lazily over his chest. The grimm had his head resting against Sean's side, warm breath fanning over him. Tightening his arms, Sean allowed himself to enjoy the way he was wrapped around the smaller man, and the fact that Nick could not leave unless he released him.

 

“Sean,” Nick murmured.

 

“Mmm,” he replied, not yet wanting to open his eyes or move from the bed.

 

Nick chuckled. “I think your mother's making us breakfast,” he said.

 

“That's nice,” Sean replied. Tilting his head down, he was able to nuzzle into the top of Nick's hair, placing a gentle kiss there and breathing in Nick's scent.

 

“Considering the effort she's going to,” Nick continued, “we should probably get up.”

 

“Not yet,” Sean replied, ignoring the slight whine he heard in his own voice.

 

“No,” Nick agreed, legs tightening around Sean's. “Not yet.”

 

They lay there contentedly until Nick's alarm rang, but Sean grumbled as he freed one arm in order to reach over and turn the alarm off.

 

Groaning, Nick pressed his face against Sean's chest, before pausing. His head tilted in the way it often did when he was listening to something normal humans couldn't hear, before he pushed himself upwards, moving swiftly away from Sean and looking undecided as to whether he actually wanted to leave the bed or not.

 

Sean frowned, watching him. But then he heard what Nick had – footsteps approaching.

 

There was a light tap on the door. “Boys,” Elizabeth called, “breakfast's ready!” She tapped against the door again, before turning the handle.

 

Seemingly deciding to stay in the bed, Nick grabbed the covers, pulling them up around himself so that his naked chest was not on display. Elizabeth poked her head into the room.

 

“Oh good, you're awake,” she said with a smile, gaze moving over Nick's swaddled form and Sean's lazy recline against the bed. “Best to get up,” she added, “before the breakfast cools down – so make sure you don't take too long in the shower.” She paused. “Which means you should probably shower separately,” she added.

 

Nick groaned, ducking his head as though wanting to bury it beneath the covers. Sean smirked to see a tinge of red crossing his grimm's cheeks. It was nice to see his mother teasing someone other than himself for a change.

 

Taking pity on Nick, and knowing his mother wouldn't leave until they agreed with her, Sean sighed, pushing himself upright. “Thank you, mother,” he said. “We'll be down shortly.”

 

“Excellent,” she replied, giving them both a broad smile, before turning and leaving the room.

 

“Your mother,” said Nick, watching her go, “makes me incredibly thankful that I've never had to deal with the parents of any of my partners in such a way before.” He turned to look at Sean before realising how that may of sounded. “Not that having her here is bad,” he added quickly, “it's just... well, let's just say that I could do without the teasing.”

 

“It means she likes you,” Sean assured him, standing up from the bed and giving a stretch. Taking a quick glance, he noted the way the grimm's eyes roved over him as he did so, causing a smile to curve across his lips. “Are you going to emerge from there any time soon?” Sean asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face Nick fully.

 

Scowling, Nick pulled the covers further around himself. “Can you guarantee your mother's not about to walk back into the room?” he asked.

 

Sean shrugged. “No,” he replied. “But then again, you're the one with the super hearing.”

 

“It's not _super_ ,” Nick replied with a pout. Shaking his head, Sean moved back over to the bed, climbing up onto it so he could kneel next to Nick. 

 

“Relax,” he said, reaching out and beginning to unwrap the covers from around the smaller man. “Even if she does return, she'd not going to care if you're not wearing a shirt.”

 

Nick made a disgruntled sound, grabbing for a better handful of the covers, his hand batted away easily by Sean. “It's not that,” Nick said. “It's more the thought of what she thinks in regards to  _why_ I'm not wearing a shirt.”

 

“She's going to think that whether she sees you half-naked or not,” Sean replied. He leant back on his heels, examining the grimm. “Besides, _everyone_ thinks that currently, and it hasn't bothered you.”

 

Nick shot him a look that suggested Sean simply wasn't getting it. “ _Everyone_ ,” he replied, “aren't your  _mother_ .”

 

Shaking his head with a laugh, Sean pulled the rest of the covers away, smiling indulgently at the way Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps not,” he agreed. “But right now, I'm the only one here.” That said, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Nick's, gratified at the way the grimm immediately opened up for him.

 

Slipping his tongue into Nick's mouth, Sean leant forward, tumbling them over so that Nick was sprawled on his back on the bed, Sean pressing down on top of him, chest to chest.

 

Groaning, Nick lifted his hands, pushing his fingers through Sean's hair as he tried to pull the older man closer to him – something it was impossible to do considering how close they already were.

 

Letting Sean's tongue stroke against his, Nick lifted his leg, wrapping it around Sean's thigh and dragging his lower half closer.  Hands pressed against Nick's shoulders, kneading them, and he forgot all about worrying about or listening for Elizabeth.

 

Until she cleared her throat rather pointedly from the doorway.

 

Freezing, Nick squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a groan that had nothing to do with enjoyment and everything to do with embarrassment as he let his head relax back against the bed, no longer straining up towards Sean's mouth.

 

With a sigh, Sean leant back, letting their lips part.

 

“I thought I might have to come back up here,” Elizabeth said, but there was a smile in her voice, which gave Nick enough courage to take a peek at her.

 

She stood with her hands on her hips, fake-sternness belied by the twinkle in her eyes as she watched them.

 

“Much as I'm glad you've found each other,” she said, “and that you are still both so in love, I'm afraid you do both have work today, which means you need to get up.” She glanced between them. “I suggest one of you uses the guest bathroom in order to avoid anything else that may hinder your ability to get ready.” That said, Elizabeth turned on her heel as she left once more, calling over her shoulder, “and don't make me come back up here – I expect to see you both downstairs quite soon!”

 

T ossing his arm over his face, Nick groaned once more.

 

Sean rolled his eyes. “Stop being so dramatic,” he said. Shifting Nick's arm, Sean leant down to give him another quick kiss, before standing and heading towards the bathroom. “You'd best get up,” he called back to Nick. “She  _will_ come back up here if we're not down soon.”

 

Pushing himself upright, Nick watched as Sean vanished into the bathroom, before climbing out of the bed and moving to gather clean clothing. Much as he disliked the idea of being sent away from  _his_ bathroom in  _his_ house, he didn't actually want Elizabeth to come back upstairs and find him trying to share the bathroom with Sean, either.

 

The fact that his mind was rather enjoyably engaged in imagining just why she thought they shouldn't shower together, was something he chose not to think about too hard.

 

*

 

Showered and dressed, Nick returned to the bedroom to find Sean similarly attired for the day  and just finishing up with his tie. Stalking over to the older man, Nick grinned, reaching out to push Sean's hands out of the way, fixing his tie before using it to tug Sean closer to him.

 

Indulgently, Sean let the grimm tug him closer. Leaning up, Nick pressed his lips to Sean's.  Automatically, Sean's hands came up to wrap around Nick's hips, dragging him closer until their legs were slotted between each other. 

 

S lowly pulling back, Nick cast an annoyed glance at the floor below them. “Come on,” he said with a sigh, “before your mother comes back.”

 

Smirking, Sean gestured for Nick to precede him out of the room, before landing a light swat on the grimm's backside as he passed. Nick jumped, casting a narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder. But Sean didn't fail to note the way he also briefly pressed back against Sean's hand.

 

They met Elizabeth at the foot of the staircase, who eyed them both suspiciously. “I was just about to come looking for you,” she said, giving them the look all mothers seemed to be capable of. “It  would hardly do for  either of you to be late. You, Sean, are the Captain, and need to set a good example. And everyone will be watching you both, considering the recent developments.”

 

Sean smiled, reaching out to give her a quick hug. “Relax,” he said, “we'll be fine. We're hardly running late, and everyone at the station is pleased for us.”

 

Elizabeth pursed her lips, while ushering them towards the kitchen. “ Surely there's at least one person who isn't happy?” she asked.

 

Nick shrugged. “Not that we're aware of,” he replied. “Not that I expect them to necessarily be advertising it, but there's been no whisper of anyone being upset. And,” he added, “if that does happen, then we'll deal with it.”

 

Taking a seat at the table, he surveyed the breakfast foods laid out for them. “This looks delicious, Elizabeth, thanks,” he said. “Though, you really didn't need to.”

 

She waved his comments away with one hand. “Nonsense,” she replied. “Of course I did. It's a mother's job to ensure her children are fed properly. Besides, it's the least I can do.”

 

“Still, thank you,” Nick repeated. She smiled at him. Then turned to Sean.

 

“I hope you know,” she informed him, “that so far I approve entirely of Nick. So you'd best make sure you don't do anything to make him break up with you or I will be severely disappointed.”

 

Nick bit his lip to keep from either smirking or laughing, though his eyes betrayed his amusement as he watched Sean pause in his seat – which, from Sean, was practically the same as squirming.

 

“I assure you, mother,” Sean replied, “that a breakup is the last thing I want. If that ever happens, it won't be unless I've already tried everything possible to keep us together.”

 

Nick's expression changed from amused to touched, and he ducked his head, not quite sure that he wanted Sean to know just how much his words had meant. He knew that it was likely Sean was simply playing up the role to his mother – their relationship had to appear real, after all – but that didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat at Sean's words. He knew a breakup would never be something he desired, either. And that  he would do everything he could to keep them together.

 

*

 

Elizabeth snatched the dishes from their hands as they tried to take them over to the sink to be washed, shooing them away as she did so. “You have work,” she told them, “while I'll simply be pottering around the house, today. This will give me something to do.”

 

Shaking his head, but used to his mother's ways – despite how long it was since he had seen her last, Sean pulled out his phone. “I'd best ring the station,” he said, “and inform them of our meeting.”

 

“Mmm,” Nick agreed, shifting so that he was leaning against Sean, their sides pressed together. “I was thinking about that,” he continued. “Where were you wanting to have the meeting?”

 

Sean glanced up. “We know their hotel and room numbers,” he said, frowning as he realised his grimm was toying with another idea. “What?” he asked.

 

Nick shrugged. “Just,” he said, “why don't we make them come to us?”

 

Sean lowered his phone, giving Nick his full attention. “They may try to get out of it,” he said. “At least if we interrupt them, they can't escape.” Truthfully, he would much prefer to make his father and Viktor come to them, but wasn't sure how they could do so.

 

“Maybe,” Nick agreed. “But right now they're in your Canton, allowed to stay by your restraint. As the visitors, and the ones who have already wronged us, they must come to us as requested or be known to break honour and be banished from the Canton.”

 

Sean considered him, hands reaching out to run down Nick's sides. “You have been studying your court etiquette,” he said.

 

“Well, if Wu's going to insist on calling me a princess, then I'd best know how to act like one.”

 

Smirking, Sean tugged Nick forward, breathing in his scent. “It's possible,” he said, “that they may still refuse.”

 

Nick shrugged. “Then I simply go after them without warning,” he replied. Then he grinned. “Besides, if I'm the one to ask them to the meeting...”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow, sharing a grin with his grimm. “Yes,” he agreed, “that just might make them more likely to comply.”

 

Reaching out, Nick took Sean's phone from his hand, scrolling through the contacts until he found Frederick's. Switching the phone to speaker, he made the call.

 

“Sean,” Frederick said, sounding rather pleased at the contact.

 

“Actually,” Nick replied. “It's Nick.”

 

“Nicholas,” Frederick replied, making Nick wrinkle his nose in a way that Sean found unfairly cute and made him want to kiss it.

 

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “I was hoping, in light of recent events, that we could meet with you and Viktor?”

 

“Of course,” Frederick replied smoothly, and Nick could hear the pleased surprise in his voice. “We could meet this evening, perhaps at -”

 

“Why don't you meet us at Sean's office?” Nick suggested, cutting the older man off. There was a pause as Frederick struggled to reconcile being cut off.

 

“Well,” he said, “I know that my son is rather busy,”

 

“He is,” Nick agreed. “Which is why it's best if you meet us at the station. That way we can slot the meeting in between everything else Sean needs to do today.”

 

Another pause. Glancing over at Sean, Nick saw that he was biting his lip (something the grimm hadn't thought the man ever did – and which made him want to kiss him), suppressing a smile. Giving Sean a grin, Nick turned his attention back to the phone as Frederick spoke.

 

“Perhaps we could meet you,” Frederick said slowly, words measured as though he was trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

 

“Excellent,” Nick said. “We'll see you at 9, then. Oh and Frederick,” he added, “please do make sure Viktor is on his _best_ behaviour.”

 

Cutting the call, Nick tossed the phone back to Sean, who was watching him with a sparkle in his eyes.

 

“What?” Nick asked.

 

Stepping closer to the shorter man, Sean placed his hands on Nick's hips to draw him closer to him. “Thank you,” he said. His thumbs rubbed circles against Nick, making his breath catch in his throat, mouth going dry.

 

Tilting his head, Nick looked up at Sean, his lips parted, and he wet them with his tongue, a thrill of pleasure running down his spine as he saw Sean's eyes darken in desire.

 

“You're perfect,” Sean breathed, leaning down to capture his lips. With a moan, Nick surrendered to the kiss, lifting his arms to twine them around Sean's neck, tugging him closer until they were pressed together all along their fronts.

 

Lips moving, tongues twining, they stood there for some moments, and would have continued to do so if Elizabeth had not decided to interrupt them once more.

 

“Honestly,” she said, hands on her hips. “You're like newly weds.” She shook her head. Before adding, “And I expect an invitation to your wedding! There will be no 'hearing about it later' for that. Am I understood?”

 

“Perfectly,” Sean assured her, reluctantly stepping back from Nick. He realised that something had changed between them over the weekend. Perhaps the morning before when Nick admitted it didn't all have to be about the pretense.

 

“Work?” Elizabeth prompted them.

 

*

 

They arrived at the station to a suppressed air of excitement that had Nick frowning as he glanced around them. “What's going on?” he asked.

 

“I can't be sure,” Sean replied, pressing the button for the elevator, “but I would surmise it has something to do with the events of the weekend.”

 

“What about them?”

 

Sean smirked. “Nick,” he said, “you dealt with four Reapers and twelve Verrat in the space of a day.”

 

Nick shrugged. “So?” he asked. “And I had help – you know I did.”

 

“Oh, I know,” Sean agreed with a smile. “That is part of what has everyone so excited, I suspect.” At Nick's confused look, he continued. “You are unlike any grimm that has been heard of for centuries,” he said. “The fact that you would allow their help, and in fact seek it out, has the wesen community proud of the trust you have placed in them. They are also extremely proud that you are our grimm. Even in the tales of the worst grimms, the most ruthless killers, there are no tales quite like one taking out that many reapers and verrat in one day.”

 

Nick huffed. “I had help,” he reminded Sean, though he was warmed to know the community was proud of him.

 

They exited the elevator to head towards the bullpen, a number of wesen officers nodding to them as they passed.

 

“Good morning,” Wu greeted. “I hope you had a pleasant weekend.” He paused, making a face. “And I did not mean that how it sounded,” he added, shaking his head. He turned to the Captain. “There are a number of messages waiting for you,” he said, “and a number of requests for meetings.”

 

Sean nodded. “My father and Viktor should be here at 9,” he said. “When they come, please let Nick know first and then  show them to my office.”

 

Wu frowned, but nodded as the Captain walked away. Nick suppressed his smile at the brief feeling of Sean's fingers against his in a gentle squeeze as he left.

 

“What's that about?” Wu asked, once the Captain had entered his office. Nick frowned.

 

“Let's just say that Viktor is continuing to be an ass,” he said, “and that we don't intend to let him get away with it.” Wu raised an eyebrow, but made no further comment.

 

*

 

Nick settled in to try and knock off the rest of his paperwork before Sean's infuriating family arrived. Not much later Hank wandered in, passing Nick a cup of coffee that earnt him a bright smile.

 

“So,” Hank asked with a grin. “How was your weekend?”

 

Nick rolled his eyes. “Considering you saw me on Saturday,” he said, “why are you asking?”

 

“Well, I didn't see you yesterday, did I?” Hank asked. He glanced around them. “Speaking of, are noticing this?” He twirled one finger in the air to indicate the excited feeling in the air. Nick nodded. “I heard whispers of something happening yesterday,” Hank continued, “and then I thought, who do I know who can manage to find enough trouble to cause a stir on a Sunday?” He gave Nick a look.

 

Nick grinned his boyish grin, giving a shrug of his shoulders that did nothing to deter Hank. “Why do you think it has something to do with me?” he asked.

 

“You saying it doesn't?”

 

Nick's ducked head was answer enough. Hank sighed.

 

“What happened?” he asked.

 

Nick looked up, watching as Wu headed towards them. “Let's just say that Viktor decided to make a move,” he said. At Hank's concerned eyes, he added. “Don't worry, it was dealt with.” Seeing Nick's almost blood-thirsty smirk, Hank wondered if he really wanted to know.

 

“So,” said Wu, coming to a stop before them. “Do you want the bad news? Or the even worse news?”

 

“That's not much of a choice,” Hank said.

 

“No,” Wu agreed. “We've got a murder – and the royal pains are here.” He turned to Nick. “When do you want me to bring them up?”

 

Nick glanced over towards the Captain's office. “Give us a couple of minutes,” he said, “then bring them.”

 

“Right,” Wu agreed, following Nick's gaze. “Please tell me you're going to put them in their place?” he asked.

 

“I'm going to give them a chance to accept it,” Nick replied, “and if they don't, then they'll be put there.” Wu frowned at his phrasing, but said nothing.

 

“So what's the murder?” Hank asked, as Nick began to move towards Sean's office. He entered to see Sean sitting at his desk, a light frown on his face as he read through his messages.

 

Giving a light tap on the door-frame, Nick closed the door behind him. Sean glanced up. He sighed.

 

“I take it they've arrived, then?” he asked.

 

Nick nodded. “I asked Wu to give us a couple of minutes,” he said.

 

“Thank you.” Leaning back in his seat, Sean sighed.

 

“Hey,” Nick said, moving closer. “It'll be fine.”

 

“Oh, I've no doubt of that,” Sean assured him. “I simply dislike the fact that we have to deal with them at all.”

 

Nick grinned. “Well,” he said, “then perhaps you should think instead about the fact that you're incredibly sexy when you get all stern and commanding.”

 

Sean opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. But it seemed Nick's words had achieved what he wanted them to, as Sean's gaze was dark with desire as he glanced at the grimm before turning his attention to the door.

 

“Come in,” he said.

 

*

 

Wu entered, followed by Frederick and Viktor. Frederick had a light frown on his face, as though he realised that this wasn't the friendly meeting he had been hoping for. Viktor sauntered in as though he thought he had perfect control.

 

Suppressing his frown, Nick moved to stand behind Sean and to his right, a not-at-all subtle declaration of his allegiance.

 

“King Frederick and Prince Viktor to see you, Sir,” Wu said.

 

“Thank you, Wu,” Sean replied with a nod. “Please close the blinds before you leave.” Wu quickly did as he was told, shutting the door behind him.

 

Viktor smirked. “Want a little privacy?” he asked.

 

“I see no reason to air the family's dirty laundry to the whole station,” Sean replied. He motioned to the chairs. “Please, have a seat.”

 

Frederick's frown increased as he took note of the way Sean was treating them. The  harsh rigidity of the grimm's stance. He had a feeling there was something going on here that he wasn't yet aware of.  Considering Viktor's superior mood all morning since hearing of the meeting, he had no doubt that Viktor was in the thick of it.

 

“Why did you wish to see us?” Frederick asked. Sean's gaze moved to him.

 

“As claimed and community-accepted ruler of this canton,” Sean said, “I am giving you Notice of Leave-taking.”

 

Frederick caught his breath as Sean mentioned being community-accepted, which made Nick realise he probably hadn't attached as much importance to the wesen acceptance of them as he should have. By the time Sean finished speaking, Frederick had a tense, angry look to him.

 

Viktor laughed. “You can't be serious,” he said.

 

“I am,” Sean replied. “You have broken Honour. You have broken Faith. And you have broken the Laws of this Canton. You are no longer welcome here. If you are not gone within four hours, you will be removed.” His gaze was cold and hard, not giving at all.

 

Viktor stared at him in open-mouthed shock, before he laughed once more. “You mustn't have heard the news yet, then,” he said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs. “Or you wouldn't be so quick to dismiss me.”

 

Frederick frowned openly. “What have you done?” he asked Viktor, before shaking his head and holding up his hand to stop the Crown-Prince when he opened his mouth to speak. “No,” he said, “don't tell me.” He turned back to Sean. “Please,” he said, “explain how Viktor has done this.” He waved one hand to indicate the accusations.

 

Sean pursed his lips, but nodded. “ I have neither the time nor patience to go through all of Viktor's crimes,” he said, “but know this. He has broken Honour on numerous occasions – through his actions and words both to myself and my chosen. He has ridiculed, pushed, and deliberately offended us, all while being here only on my restraint.

 

“He has broken Faith,” Sean continued, “through his blatant and repeated lies. More than once you have spoken to him about his behaviour and he has promised to improve – but that has not been the case.

 

“And he has broken the Laws of the Canton by inviting in those who are banned.”

 

Viktor smirked. “You do know, then,” he said.

 

Nick rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” he asked. “You thought you could get away with that in  _Sean's_ canton?”

 

Viktor laughed. “You had best be more polite to me,” he said, “or I will not call them off.”

 

“Call them off?” Frederick repeated slowly, visage darkening as he began to get an inkling of just how massively Viktor had stuffed things up for them. “Call who off?”

 

With a shrug, Viktor replied, “Let's just say that the little grimm would be wise to seek my protection,” he said.

 

Frederick scowled, obviously ready to lay into his nephew, when Sean spoke.

 

“At 9:28 yesterday morning,” he said, “a reaper entered the canton and proceeded to meet with Viktor. He left by 10:14. Then, at 11:07, four more reapers entered the canton, dressed for a hunt.” Frederick sucked his breath in sharply at that. Sean continued. “At 11:33, ten verrat joined with two of those assigned to guard Viktor. By midday, both groups were moving throughout _my_ canton, seeking news of _my_ grimm.”  The look on Sean's face was harsh and cold, an icy fury with no leeway.

 

Closing his eyes briefly, Frederick drew in a deep breath. He knew, then, that they had lost. This trip would not gain the results he had hoped for.  Despite that, there was a flare of pride, small, but there, to know that his son – bastard though he was – was so in control of and supported by those in his canton.

 

“Well then,” said Viktor, a puzzled expression crossing his face. “Why is it, exactly, that you are being so quick to dismiss me? I thought you cared for your pet grimm.” He smirked at Nick as he spoke, eyes roving over the grimm's form.

 

Nick smiled, showing his teeth in a way he'd picked up from this wesen friends. “Really?” he asked, “you're going with that?” There was humour and mocking in his tone.

 

Viktor bristled.

 

“Enough,” Frederick said, giving Viktor a sharp glance. “It is obvious you have disgraced the family heavily.” He gave an apologetic nod to Sean and Nick. His son, who had claimed and ruled his own canton, and the grimm who stood beside him – a pairing that had not been seen in so long that most believed they had never existed.

 

“Me?” Frederick asked. “I'm not the bastard attempting to force his will on those above him! When the reapers and verrat meet his little grimm, he'll be seeing things differently!”

 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Nick, tone completely unconcerned, while his eyes burnt with anger at Viktor's words against his chosen. “Didn't you hear? I already met them.”

 

Viktor froze, shock displayed clearly on his face. Sean sighed, as though terribly disappointed in him. Glancing between the trio, Frederick shook his head.

 

“That is impossible,” Viktor said.

 

Nick shrugged. “I'm afraid the reapers interrupted my exercises in the woods yesterday afternoon,” he said. “Considering they'd broken the laws of the canton, there was really only one response I could give.”

 

“You -” Viktor began.

 

“I dealt with them,” Nick replied firmly, leaving no room for argument.

 

Viktor shook his head, shock still visible on his face.

 

“If you doubt my word,” Nick continued, in a tone that suggested such a thing would be incredibly foolish. “Why don't you have a look?” He motioned towards a corner of the officer, where a large box sat.

 

Seeing it, Frederick could guess what was inside. Viktor, still arrogant despite his shock, strode over and lifted the lid, before stumbling backwards.

 

Nick, who had moved to stand near him, took the lid from Viktor's lax fingers, placing it back on the box and covering the slack faces of the dead reapers. “It only seemed right to send a thank you to  the one who sent them,” Nick continued casually, gaze completely uncaring about the severed heads in the box. “After all, we can't have him thinking his gesture went unnoticed.”  He paused, before adding, as though it was nothing. “And the practice was somewhat helpful, I suppose.”

 

“You don't need any more practice,” Sean said, giving him a sharp look. “Don't think I don't know about the blindfold.”

 

“Blindfold?” Viktor mouthed.

 

Shrugging, Nick slid back over towards Sean, his movements smooth and controlled, yet submissive. “Well, it would hardly have been worth the effort without it,” he said.

 

Sean sighed, as though fed up with his chosen's decisions.

 

“And the verrat?” Viktor managed to get out, looking somewhere between hopeful that they had yet to make their move and he could salvage something from the situation, and resigned to the fact that his plan had failed.

 

Shrugging, Nick turned back to face him and Frederick. “They've also been dealt with,” he said. “Now,” he glanced down at his watch. “If you don't want me to have to deal with you also, then I suggest you start leaving Sean's canton.”

 

Viktor scowled, appearing ready to retort.

 

“Please,” Nick said, leaning forward, “do. I would really, really like to be able to deal with you myself.” The smirk he gave Viktor promised all kinds of dangers and pain. “Don't think for one moment that just because I follow Sean's lead I'm any less a grimm than any of my ancestors,” he warned.

 

Frederick stood up. “It appears we have trespassed on your hospitality long enough,” he said, face grave and eyes stern as he glanced at Viktor. “We will take our leave, now. On behalf of the family, may I express our deepest regrets and apologies. Viktor will not go unpunished for this.”

 

“Thank you,” Sean said, standing to show that their meeting was at an end. “Perhaps in the future you and I will be able to reopen communication between us once more. Have a safe trip back.”

 

Nodding, Frederick stalked out of the room, dragging Viktor with him like a recalcitrant child.

 

*

 

Watching his father and Viktor leave, Sean felt a small smile of satisfaction cross his face. One that only broadened when he felt his grimm's weight settle onto the arm of his chair then press against his side. He turned to Nick.

 

“You,” Sean declared, reaching up to tug Nick off the chair arm and into his lap, “were absolutely perfect.”

 

“Really?” Nick asked, looping his arms around Sean's neck and grinning at him.

 

“Oh yes,” Sean replied. “I don't think I've ever seen Viktor so firmly put in his place.” Letting his hands travel down the grimm's sides to settle on his hips. “Thank you,” he said.

 

Leaning forward, Nick placed a quick kiss on Sean's lips. “You know,” he said, “If I'm really that perfect and you're really that grateful, perhaps you should thank me properly later.” He smirked.

 

“And how would I do that?” Sean asked, raising one eyebrow as he inwardly thrilled at the playful look on his grimm's face, and the implication of his words.

 

“Hmmm,” Nick hummed, leaning in for another kiss. “I'm sure you'll think of something.” Hearing someone approaching, Nick reluctantly removed himself from the Captain's lap, turning to face the open doorway.

 

Franco poked his head inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I've got a number of people here, all asking to see Nick.”

 

 

*

 

The people all waiting for Nick, it turned out, were all wesen. Exiting the Captain's office to see a large group standing together by one of the walls, one of them woging every so often, Nick suppressed his sigh.

 

Obviously their support was appreciated greatly, but he was beginning to wonder how he'd ever get any of his usual work done. A quick glance over at his and Hank's desks showed that the older man was nowhere in sight.

 

“You know where Hank is?” he asked Franco.

 

“He headed off with Wu to check out our latest crime scene,” Franco replied, “seeing as they figured you and the Captain might be a while dealing with the Captain's family.”

 

Nick nodded, it made sense. Even if he would have liked to have Hank with him now to help him sort through the various requests of the wesen asking for him. Letting his gaze travel over the group, he noticed a few slightly younger ones with smirks on their faces as they glanced between him and the Captain's office. No doubt they had been able to hear his conversation with Sean.

 

“All right,” Nick called out, instantly drawing the group's full attention to himself. “Obviously, there are quite a number of you here, so if anyone here has a concern that can wait until another day, please, leave your names and contact details with Sergeant Franco, and I'll get in contact with you in the next couple of days.” A few people moved over to Franco, the others shifting and looking at each other, as though trying to decide just how urgent their concerns were.

 

“If anyone has a concern that is not immediately urgent,” Nick continued, giving them a look that allowed a little of his grimm presence out, “then please move back against the wall.” There was some shuffling as they did as they were told, leaving only a couple of wesen standing away from the wall.

 

“Right,” Nick said, looking over them. “Follow me.”

 

What followed, was an exercise in patience m , as well as something of an eye-opener in regards to the lives and concerns of some of the wesen in the city. Of the two who had identified their concerns as urgent, one was a Drang-zorn with twin boys he feared were going to experience their first woge soon – at the age of eleven. Concerned both for their welfare, and his ability to control and take care of them if they were lost to the rage of the too-early woge, he had come to the grimm.

 

The other, a Raub-Kondor, had information on an ongoing investigation – having seen the perpetrator due to her excellent eyesight, but unable to approach the normal police as she had no way to explain her information to a normal human.

 

By the time Nick had managed to speak to all those who had remained at the station, it was some hours later and his stomach was demanding lunch. The concerns had ranged from parents worried about bullying at school, to those who were struggling with either a job or finding a suitable living situation, to a number who were concerned about wesen drug-use.

 

*

 

Dropping down into his seat, Nick, stretched his neck, before looking up at the call of his name.

 

“Detectice Burkhardt,” Agent Mackey called, striding over towards him with Agent Thicke in two. Behind them, Nick saw Gina, hovering by the doorway. He spared her a quick smile, before turning his attention back to the agents.

 

“Agents,” he said, motioning towards a couple of spare seats. “How can I help you?”

 

“Actually,” said Mackey, “we wanted to thank you. Your help on the case has been most beneficial.” Thicke looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, but Nick ignored that. “Perhaps we could treat you to lunch,” Mackey continued, “as a way of saying thanks?”

 

Nick hesitated – Thicke's obvious dislike of him made him want to refuse, but he also knew the importance of keeping up inter-agency relationships. “Thank you,” he said, pushing himself to his feet.

 

*

 

By the time Nick returned to the station, after a somewhat awkward lunch (though not nearly as bad as dinner with Frederick and Viktor, it also lacked the comfort of having Sean with him), it was almost two in the afternoon.

 

Entering the bullpen, Nick smiled to see Hank and Wu had returned.

 

“Hey,” he said, dropping into seat. “What have we got?”

 

“ _We_ ,” Wu replied, indicating between himself and Hank, “have got a lovely new case to work on. You, however -” Whever else he was going to say was cut off by Hank's phone ringing.

 

Giving Wu a bemused look, Hank snatched it up, the amused look quickly sliding from his face as he listened to the person on the other end.

 

“What is it?” Nick asked, once Hank hung up. Hank stared at them.

 

“Someone attacked Carly,” he said.

 

Immediately, Nick was on his feet, as was Hank, already moving towards the exit. “Tell the Captain,” Nick called over his should to Wu, who nodded, a frown on his face.

 

*

 

If Hank broke a few speed laws getting to Carly's school, Nick didn't comment on it. He simply switched on the police lights so that they could travel unhindered.

 

They were met when they arrived by a rather unimpressed-looking Principal.

 

“Mr Griffin?” she asked, approaching Hank, and casting a curious glance towards Nick.

 

“That’s right,” Hank agreed. “This is my partner, Nick Burkhardt.” The woman blinked, but made no comment, simply motioning them to precede her into her office. “Thank you for coming so quickly,” she said.

 

“I was told someone attacked Carly,” Hank replied, leaning forward in his seat, face serious.

 

The principal nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Miss Kampfer is currently with the school nurse.”

 

Hank stood. “I’d like to see her,” he said.

 

“Surely it’d be best to discuss the situation first?” she asked.

 

“Actually,” Hank replied, “I think the most important thing right now is seeing that my goddaughter is okay.” His tone left no room for argument. When the Principal turned to Nick for help, he simply shrugged with a small grin.

 

“Lead the way,” he said, also standing, before adding. “Really, there’s no arguing with him when he gets like this.” The Principal pursed her lips, but led the way. “Perhaps you could fill us in while we walk?” Nick asked. “And I’m afraid I didn’t get your name.”

 

“Principal Mathers,” she replied. “The Seniors have lunch at 1pm. From what the teachers on yard duty have informed me, Miss Kampfer was sitting on the grounds with a few of her friends, when they were approached by another young man. None of the teachers were close enough to hear what was said. However, it was enough to cause Miss Kampfer to get her feet. Shortly after that, the young man struck at her.

 

“The teachers approached and broke up the resulting scuffle.” She frowned. “Both students sustained some minor injuries.”

 

“And the young man’s name?” Hank asked.

 

Mathers paused, as though wondering whether to disclose that information or not. However, before she could decide, they arrived at the nurses station. Carly was sitting on one of the seat, legs swinging lightly as she scowled down at a piece of paper she was scribbling on.

 

She must have heard something, as she looked up, a smile crossing her face as she saw them.

 

“Uncle Hank!” she exclaimed, “Uncle Nick! What are you doing here?”

 

“Carly,” Hank replied, stepping forward and drawing her into a quick hug before pushing her back so that he could look over her. There was a rather impressive bruise forming on her cheek, some grazes on her knuckles and skin torn torn from her knees. She grinned at him. “I got a call from the school,” Hank said. “They couldn’t get a hold of your father, so called me instead.” Carly nodded, aware that her Uncle Hank was listed as one of her emergency contacts.

 

“You didn’t have to come here, though,” she said.

 

“Of course we did,” Nick said, moving up to clasp his hand upon her shoulder. “You know how Hank would worry himself ragged if we didn’t.” He grinned. Hank rolled his eyes, giving Nick a nudge.

 

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” he asked.

 

With a shrug, Carly handed him the paper she’d been scribbling on.

 

“You wrote it down?” Hank said.

 

“Yeah. I figured, you know, best to write it down while I still remember it.”

 

Leaning forward, Nick read over Hank’s shoulder. Carly’s account fit in with that the Principal had told them, but gave more information as to the insults used against her.

 

“I just don’t understand it,” Carly said. “I mean, I know that Mick’s not exactly a nice guy, but I’ve never had a problem with him before.”

 

“Where is he?” Nick asked, glancing around. But Carly was the only one in the nurse’s office.

 

“He returned to his year-mates,” the nurse spoke up, moving towards them. “Miss Kampfer was able to diffuse his attack with very little damage to him, so he was released from my care. Considering Miss Kampfer was the victim of the attack, I thought it best to keep her here until her father, or guardian,” she added in deference to Hank, “arrived.”

 

“Thank you,” Hank said, though he frowned at the idea of the boy being back with his classmates.

 

Nick turned back to Principal Mathers. “Can you take me to him?” he asked, casting a questioning look at Hank. Hank shrugged, turning to Carly.

 

She rolled her eyes. “We can all go,” she said. “I’m fine, really, and would like to be able to finish the day.”

 

Hank narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

 

Carly smiled. “Relax, Uncle Hank,” she replied. “I’m almost done with my schooling and see no reason to miss one of the few days I have left. Besides, there’s only a few more classes left for the day.”

 

Hank turned to the nurse, his look question enough.

 

“Miss Kampfer is right,” the nurse replied, “she has only very minor injuries and should be able to finish out the day without too much hassle.”

 

“Fine,” Hank said, “but first I think Nick and I need to speak to this boy.”

 

“The school will deal with punishment,” Principal Mathers interjected quickly.

 

“Really?” Hank asked. “Because it seems to me that this Mick assaulted my goddaughter.” He gave the Principal a look. “Those are criminal charges,” he said.

 

Carly glanced between them, before catching Nick’s eye with a questioning look. Nick gave her a slight smile in return, before tilting his head as he sought out the various sounds of the school.

 

“It’s this way, isn’t it?” he asked, turning and walking out of the room.

 

Nick led them (with a few, barely audible – and then only to Nick – directions from Carly) towards the back of the school where the school yard and sports grounds were. A large group of students were gathered on one of the fields, busily chattering away as their harried teacher tried to draw their attention away from the fight earlier and back to himself.

 

“Carly!” one of the girls called out, spotting them approaching. She rushed forward, wrapping the teen up in a tight hug. “Are you all right? What happened? I can’t believe Mick attacked you! And they just let him come back here!” As she stepped back from Carly, several things happened at once.

 

There was a loud cry, and two figures rushed towards Carly, woging as they did so. Nick, who had been watching a small huddle of boys that included who he thought might be the offending Mick, saw them move. Sliding forward easily between Carly and the boys, he knocked them to the ground with a few swift moves, before putting his fingers in his mouth and letting out a shrill whistle as the mass of students burst into chatter and panic, looking ready to attack each other.

 

In the wake of Nick’s whistle, the students fell silent, shifting awkwardly in place. By their reactions, Hank knew that Nick was grimming. Hard. Even normal humans could feel something when Nick got like that.

 

Frowning, Nick stared down at the two boys on the ground at his feet, before turning to pin the suspected Mick with his gaze. All three froze where they were, eyes wide and faces paling as they saw the grimm.

 

“Right,” Nick said, “you three, over there.” He pointed a few feet away where a lone tree edged the side of the field. “We’ll get to you in a moment.” He surveyed the students. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to tell us?” he asked. The students shifted, glancing at each other nervously. Realising that he was likely scaring them all, Nick toned down his grimmness a little.

 

“Mr Griffin,” Principal Mathers said, “and Mr Griffin’s partner,” she gave Nick a tight smile, “perhaps it would be best if you let us deal with this.”

 

Hank must have heard something in her tone, because he blinked, before laughing softly. “Not that kind of partner,” he said, sharing a grin with Nick at the misconception they’d had to deal with a few times in the past, though usually people saw their badges and guessed correctly. “Nick and I are Detectives with the Portland PD,” he said. “He’s my work partner.”

 

Mathers blinked. “But Miss Kampfer called him Uncle Nick,” she said. A number of the wesen students shifted at that, turning surprised looks towards Carly, who ducked her head.

 

One of the boys near the front of the group of students chuckled, giving Hank and Nick a look. “Wow,” he said, “being mistaken for a guy couple. That must suck. They’re cops, of course they’re straight.”

 

Nick gave him a rather stern look. “Actually,” he said, “I’m bisexual. And currently in a rather serious relationship with another man.” The teen’s mouth fell open as he stared at Nick in shock, though a number of the wesen students were nodding as though this confirmed what they already knew.

 

Hank shook his head. “Don’t remind me,” he said with a shudder. “And this,” he waved one hand around, “misunderstanding, can stay out of our report, too. Goodness knows I don’t want the Captain glaring at me.”

 

Chuckling, Nick slapped Hank on the shoulder. “Not even a little mention he asked?”

 

Hank scowled. “I trust you with my life,” he said, “but if you want to make him jealous, you’ll have to find someone else for that.” He glanced out over the students. “Right,” he said, “I’ll deal with these kids, you wanna talk to those three?”

 

“Yes,” Nick agreed, “I do.”

 

*

 

As Nick approached the three waiting under the tree, he studied them. The two who had rushed Carly only to be stopped so easily by Nick were skalengecks. The third woged into a schakal as Nick came to a halt before them. All three swallowed hard.

 

“Right,” Nick said. “Who would like to tell me exactly what is going on here?”

 

The three exchanged glances, looking extremely nervous. “Are you going to kill us?” one of the skalengeck’s asked.

 

Nick shrugged. “I’d prefer not to,” he said, “but that all depends on how much you cooperate, doesn’t it?”

 

After that – well, all three became trying to talk over each other.

 

“Enough,” Nick said, holding up his hand to halt them. “Mick?” he asked, turning to the schakal. Mick nodded. “Right, why don’t you start?”

 

Swallowing, Mick stared down at the ground, while scuffing his shoe in the dirt. “It was just meant to be a bit of fun,” he said petulantly, “scare her a little.”

 

“Carly?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Why her?”

 

Mick shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “The guy just said to attack her. Rough her up a little. Nothing too serious. And he paid us.”

 

Nick sighed. “He paid you?” he asked.

 

Mick and the two skalengecks nodded.

 

“Let me guess,” Nick continued, “he was dressed smartly, spoke with an accent, kinda posh, European-sounding, about so high, smarmy, and had a goatee that kinda looked like Tony Stark’s if he let his grow a bit and meet at the sides?”

 

Blinking at him, the three nodded.

 

“Did he ask you to do anything else?” Nick asked.

 

“No,” one of the skalengecks spoke up with a shake of his head. “Just to rough up the Kampfer girl a little. He approached us at the beginning of lunch, offered us money. He didn’t say why. Although, he said something about it getting someone’s attention, but...” his voice trailed off as Nick’s gaze hardened.

 

“Right,” he said. Turning on his heel, he stalked back over towards Hank. “Hank,” he said, catching the other man’s attention. “Call Jarold, tell him he and Carly are staying with me tonight.” Hank frowned.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“Viktor paid them to attack her,” Nick explained, already pulling out his phone. “No doubt in order to try and get my attention.” The look on his face as he uttered his next words left no doubt in the minds of any of the wesen there. “He’s going to wish he hadn’t gotten it,” Nick said.

 

Scrolling quickly through his contacts, Nick pulled up the one for Frederick that he’d copied from Sean’s phone earlier, tapping it to make it go through.

 

“Hello?” Frederick asked, sounding confused as to who was calling him.

 

“Frederick,” Nick replied, voice cold. “Where is Viktor?”

 

There was a pause. “He has left the country,” Frederick said, “just as you asked. As he has been acting like a commoner, he was booked onto a common flight, which would have left two hours ago.”

 

“He didn’t leave,” Nick said. “In fact, he’s just tried to get my attention in perhaps one of the worst possible ways he could think of doing so.”

 

The silence on the other side of the line let Nick know that Frederick had already guessed what he was going to say.

 

“If you have a way of getting in contact with Viktor,” Nick said, “I suggest you do so. And strongly encourage him to start running. _Because if I find him before he leaves the canton, he will never be leaving it again._ ” The last was said in latin, flowing easily from Nick’s tongue.

 

Hank gave him a startled glance.

 

“Understood,” Frederick said with a sigh.

 

Nodding, Nick ended the call.

 

“Since when do you speak latin?” Hank asked.

 

“Huh?” Turning to look at his partner, Nick grinned. “What?” he asked. “It’s useful for me to know. Besides, Sean’s been teaching me.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Hank agreed. “And what do you get as reward when you get things right.” Then he made a face. “On second thoughts,” he said, “I don’t want to know.”

 

Shaking his head, Nick slapped Hank on the shoulder. “ Actually,” he replied, “he’s a very demanding teacher who takes the lessons quite seriously. But I’ll be sure to let him know of your suggestion next time.” 

 

H ank shook his head, before quickly turning serious. “What now?” he asked.

 

“Now?” Nick replied. “Now, I have some phone calls to make. And then, well, then I guess I’m going hunting.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, another 'part one' chapter.  
> I meant to stop them after the 'weekend' (days four and five), I really did. Figuring that surely I could fit a day back into about 10k words.  
> Only, I also really wanted to get this out to you all as soon as possible, and realised that instead of having one or two thousand words left to go, there's more likely a few to five thousand left in this chapter.  
> That said, I'm hoping to try and get the rest of 'day six' out tomorrow or in the next few days if possible. My muse is currently happily telling me what needs to happen much faster than my fingers can type.


	9. Day Six - part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was rather a long time in coming. But, it's here finally. Hopefully that means that future chapters won't take quite so long to get out (I don't know why this chapter was so stubborn about being written, but it was).  
> Many thanks to bisspateralligator and cuddlememarvelous for their encouragement on Tumblr - which really helped with getting this chapter finished.

“Nick,” Sean said, pleased to see his chosen’s name flashing on his phone.

 

“Sean,” Nick replied, the tone of his voice instantly putting Sean on alert as he straightened in his chair. “Viktor hasn’t left. He paid some boys to attack Carly.”

 

Sean stood, already reaching for his coat. “I’m on my way,” he said.

 

*

 

“Nick, man, what -”

 

“Viktor had Carly attacked.”

 

There was a low growl in response.

 

“We’re at her school.”

 

The line went dead.

 

*

 

Placing his phone back in his pocket, Nick glanced around them, taking note of the pile of hockey sticks placed to one side of the field. No doubt for the sport the students had been meant to be playing. He glanced over at the teacher.

 

“Mind if I borrow one of these?” he asked, moving over and reaching down as he spoke in order to pick up one of the sticks.

 

Looking somewhat surprised and unsure just exactly what was going on, the teacher nodded.

 

“Thanks,” Nick said. Hefting the stick, he felt the balance, before spinning it around swiftly.

 

“Neat!” one of the students exclaimed, quickly hushed by a nearby wesen student who was watching Nick with wide eyes.

 

Satisfied that he had a weapon other than his gun, Nick moved back towards the three boys. “Do you remember where the man met you?” he asked.

 

They nodded.

 

Nick grinned – but it wasn’t very happy or comforting. “Excellent,” he said. “As soon as the others get here, you’ll show us where.” They nodded, although looking apprehensive at the mention of others.

 

“Just _what_ exactly do you think you’re doing?” Principal Mathers demanded, seemingly finally finding her voice. “This is a school matter and should be treated as such. I don’t appreciate the way you’ve been treating either my students or staff.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

 

Nick fixed her with a serious look. “The boys were paid to attack Carly,” he said. “This is now a police investigation.”

 

“No doubt,” said another voice, Nick smiling and completely unsurprised to see Captain Renard striding towards them – the Principal and most of the students jumped at the sound of his voice. “The man who paid the boys is one of the terrorists who the detectives have been tracking down.” He came to a halt before the Principal, who appeared much more impressed with Renard than she had been with Nick.

 

“Terrorists?” she asked.

 

“Yes,” the Captain replied. “It appears they wanted to get our attention.” The look on his face left no doubt that he was completely in agreement with Nick – they would be sorry they’d actually gotten it.

 

“Is there anything we can do?” The Principal asked.

 

“Get the students inside,” the Captain said, eyes passing over the huddled group. He glanced at Hank. “Stay with them,” he said, also nodding at Carly. “Sergeant Wu will be here shortly with some uniforms.”

 

That said, he turned to Nick, eyes sweeping over him. With a roll of his eyes, Nick held his arms out to the side.

 

“I’m fine,” he said.

 

The look Sean shot him quite clearly indicated that he wasn’t entirely sure either of Nick’s ability to be fine, or to tell Sean the truth if he wasn’t.

 

“What?” Nick asked, stepping closer to him. “You want to check?” Smirking, he let his arms come up and wrap around Sean’s neck.

 

Staring down at the grimm, Sean blinked. What was he doing?

 

“Nick?” he asked.

 

Leaning forward, Nick pressed himself up against Sean, so that he could murmur in the other man’s ear. “It’s Viktor,” he said. “If he’s watching, then I’m sure this will make him especially furious. He may even do us the favour of storming over here in a snit so that we don’t actually have to go looking for him.”

 

“Hmmm,” Sean agreed, arms slipping easily around Nick’s waist as he tilted his face in towards the grimm’s neck. “If only we were that lucky,” he said.

 

“Seriously?” Monroe demanded as he announced his presence. “How do you two cope during the day when you’re meant to be working if you’re always this attached to each other?”

 

Drawing back, Nick turned to Monroe with a grin. “Why?” he asked. “You jealous?”

 

Monroe scoffed. “So,” he asked, “where do we start?” Nick nodded towards the three boys.

 

“Okay,” said Nick, “show us where he met you.”

 

*

 

The boys, pale-faced and even more anxious in Sean’s presence, led them over to one side of the school yard, where it backed up against natural forest. “Of course it’s near the forest,” Monroe muttered, already taking deep breaths. “Oh, oh yeah,” he said. “That’s it. Definitely the stench of royalty.” Freezing, he shot Sean a look. “No offence, of course,” he added hurriedly. Nick smirked.

 

Ignoring them both, Sean glanced around them. “Which way did he go?” he asked.

 

“That way,” Monroe replied, motioning towards a slight trail that led into the forest.

 

Nick sighed. “Of course he did,” he said. Turning to the boys, Nick gave them a stern look. “Head back inside the school,” he said. “Quickly, and with no detours. Understood?”

 

The boys nodded, appearing concerned, but hurrying to obey the grimm. Monroe shot Nick a sideways glance, he hadn’t thought Nick would send them off by themselves. But then he saw the way the grimm’s head tilted to the side, listening. While he might not be walking them back, he was still keeping an eye – or ear – on them.

 

“They’re fine,” Nick said, a few moments later, hearing the boys enter the school buildings.

 

“Hmm,” Sean hummed, not entirely sure if he cared whether they were or not. He knew he _should_ care. After all, they were just teenagers. Not quite adults yet. But that didn’t mean he was at all pleased with what they had done.

 

“Well,” said Nick, hefting the hockey stick in his hand. “I suppose it’s time to find Viktor.” He scowled at the thought, before adding, “are you going to join us, Alexander, or simply follow along behind?”

 

“What the -? Dude!” Monroe exclaimed as he jumped, spinning around to stare wide-eyed at the suited man standing silently a few feet away.

 

Alexander smiled. “I’ll join you, if you don’t mind,” he said.

 

“Not at all,” Sean replied, eyes sweeping over him.

 

“So, not that we mind the help,” Nick began, motioning Monroe forward to lead them down the path. “But why are you here?”

 

Alexander chuckled. “The wesen of Portland petitioned the Council to officially acknowledge Sean Renard as Portland’s Royal,” he said. “That’s not something that has been done in a long time.”

 

Nick shrugged. “Yeah, well,” he said, “I don’t suppose there are many like Sean, are there?” He shot Sean a cheeky grin as he spoke, making the older man give him a rather unimpressed look.

 

“No,” Alexander agreed, “there aren’t.”

 

“Still,” said Nick, “why send you here? Surely the Council could have just, I don’t know, asked questions or something?” He ducked under a branch that Sean held out of the way for him, casting a bright smile the Captain’s way in thanks, letting their hands brush as Sean released the branch.

 

“Perhaps. But the Council feels that a better idea of the situation in Portland would be had by having someone come and observe it for a little while.”

 

“And you get to the do the observing,” Monroe said, before seemingly realising that he was talking back to an agent of the Wesen Council and determinedly facing forward and continuing to track Viktor’s scent.

 

“I do,” said Alexander. “To be honest, I was pleased to be given the assignment. Though brief, I have enjoyed my past encounters with you.” He looked at Nick as he spoke.

 

“Uh, thanks,” Nick said, giving him a bemused smile.

 

“You arrived rather quickly,” Sean commented.

 

Nick frowned. “Did he?” he asked. Before shaking his head. “Huh. That seems like so long ago.”

 

Monroe rolled his eyes. “Not surprising,” he groused, “considering how besotted you’ve suddenly become lately. It’s sickening. But yes, it was only two days ago that you were both in the Spice shop, accepting the petition.”

 

“Hey,” Nick complained, “we’re not that bad.”

 

Monroe just gave him a disbelieving look.

 

Nick frowned, while he knew that he was rather enjoying the ‘fake’ relationship he was sharing with Sean, and had told the other man that it didn’t all need to be about pretence, he didn’t think that they were so expressive as Monroe was saying. Enjoying it a little didn’t make them sickening. Did it?

 

“Uh, I think we’re getting close,” Monroe muttered.

 

“At least he had the decency of heading into the forest where there won’t be any witnesses,” Nick said.

 

“Nick?” Monroe asked. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I, also, would like the answer to that question,” Alexander smoothly added.

 

Nick shrugged, glancing over at Sean. Sean scowled. “Nick,” he said, voice heavy.

 

Nick nodded. “I know,” he said. “And trust me, _that_ won’t be a problem.” He turned to Monroe. “Viktor has broken the rules of the canton,” he said, “so his life is forfeit. Besides,” he added, “he was also given Notice of Leave-Taking, for breaking honour and faith, as well as the laws of the canton.”

 

There was silence for a moment, Monroe gaping at the thought of what Viktor had done. “Seriously?” he sputtered eventually. “What was he thinking?”

 

Nick shrugged. “Likely that the reapers and verrat he sent after me would be more of a problem than they were.”

 

“These are serious crimes,” said Alexander, staring at Nick.

 

“They are,” Nick agreed.

 

“Are you ready to carry out the ancient role of the grimms?”

 

Nick glanced over at Alexander. “I am,” he replied firmly, frowning lightly. “As I told Sean, it won’t be a problem. What I am concerned about, however,” he added, “is what we’re going to tell everyone. An entire class of teenagers knows that we have set out after the ‘terrorist’.”

 

“He perished resisting arrest and attacking police officers,” Sean replied calmly. “I’m sure everyone here can agree on that.”

 

*

 

Stumbling down a slight incline, Nick tilted his head as he heard something. Ah. It seemed that Viktor wasn’t that far ahead of them. And that he had chosen not to wait alone. Reaching out, Nick placed his hand on Monroe’s back, halting the blutbad, who glanced back at him. Giving Monroe a grim smirk and a nod, Nick turned to lock eyes with Renard. He didn’t need to do anything else, the other man nodding in reply to show he understood.

 

A quick glance at Alexander showed that he was willing to follow the others’ lead.

 

Slipping forward silently, Nick crept through the underbrush, slinking forward to where a short break in the trees formed a small clearing. Viktor was standing there, arms crossed and pouting as he stalked about it.

 

“What is taking him so long?” he demanded, turning to one of the men at his side. Based on the man’s stance, clothing and bulk, Nick guessed he was verrat. “I thought he was meant to be some hotshot grimm,” Viktor scoffed.

 

“Perhaps he stopped to ensure the girl was fine?” the verrat suggested.

 

“What on earth for?”

 

Turning his attention from the man that continuously made him want to pummel him, Nick let his gaze rove around the clearing, taking it in. There were two verrat in the clearing with Viktor, but, as he could hear more heartbeats, Nick knew that they couldn’t be the only ones.

 

There, a flash of something through the trees. And there. Slowly, Nick picked out of the other verrat, hidden in the forest around the clearing. Matching hearing and sight together until he was sure he had found them all.

 

Smirking, he slid back into the undergrowth, moving swiftly yet silently back to where he had left the others.

 

Reaching them, he held out his right hand, palm open, and pointed to it. Then he raised his hands, holding up ten fingers, before flashing another ten. Twenty verrat.

 

Sean’s eyes widened in surprise at Viktor being able to gather that many, before narrowing in fury. How dare his cousin bring that many verrat into his canton. Particularly when it was clear that their sole purpose was to go after _his_ grimm!

 

Still, while Viktor was breaking numerous laws, the verrat were simply following orders. Sean could tell that Nick had had the same thought. He shook his head, making sure Nick caught the motion.

 

Pouting, Nick tilted his head to the side. Sean frowned, shaking his head again. He didn’t care if Nick felt sorry for the verrat. If they didn’t want to die, then they shouldn’t have sided with his cousin. Not when in _his_ canton.

 

Nick raised an eyebrow, reminding Sean of the frustrating etiquette that they had had to observe since this whole thing started. Pursing his lips, Sean gave Nick a stern look. If Nick was going to do this, then he would be taking no chances.

 

Nick ducked his head, nodding. Sean stepped forward, touching his hand to Nick’s shoulder, wanting that touch to sustain him as he had to let his grimm walk away – into certain danger.

 

In response, Nick stepped forward, leaning up so that he could press his lips to Sean’s – the barest of touches. Then, turning, he vanished back into the trees. Behind him, the others began to move.

 

*

 

Walking into the clearing, Nick kept his head held high and his gait relaxed and even. Viktor gaped rather unflatteringly at him, watching the grimm approach.

 

“Viktor,” Nick said with a sigh, tone expressing his disappointment. He turned to the verrat standing to either side of Viktor. “You should know,” he said, “that Viktor, here, has broken the laws of the canton. Multiple times. He has been warned, and was even given Notice of Leave-Taking.”

 

The verrat shifted, glancing to one another uneasily.

 

Nick smiled grimly. “As such,” he continued. “Viktor will now be facing judgement for his actions. The rest of you have a choice. You can continue to follow his orders – thus putting yourselves in danger with a high likelihood of injury or death. Or, you can choose to leave.

 

“If you wish to leave, no-one will stop you. But you will have to do so now.” Nick raised his voice as he spoke, so that it carried clearly around the clearing and into the surrounding forest.

 

“You!” Viktor gasped out, face darkening in anger as he took a step towards Nick. “How dare you address _my_ verrat in such a manner!”

 

“I’m giving them a choice,” Nick replied calmly and clearly. “You’ve already made yours, but that doesn’t mean they should have to suffer for your decisions.” Around him, Nick could hear some of the verrat beginning to slip away. He was glad to know they weren’t completely beyond reason.

 

But there were others that stayed. Including the two verrat standing by Viktor. They shared a glance. Nick twirled the hockey stick in his hands.

 

“Last chance,” he said.

 

The verrat lunged at him.

 

Side-stepping easily, Nick swept the hockey stick to one side, taking out the legs of an approaching verrat. At the same time, he lowered his shoulder, allowing the other verrat to run into him, before driving upwards as he flipped the hundjager up and over his back.

 

Viktor snarled, eyes snapping with fury, but aware enough to know there was nothing he could do. Spinning on his heel, he turned and dashed into the woods.

 

Shaking his head, Nick hefted the hockey stick, spinning it to catch a couple of bullets headed his way, before snapping it to the side and against the head of the one of the verrat – knocking the half-risen figure back to the ground.

 

There was a snarl from the trees, three more verrat rushing at him. Removing his gun, Nick calmly took aim, disposing of two. The third he knocked back with the stick, ignoring a fourth that approached from behind.

 

There was the sharp retort of a gun, the verrat behind Nick falling to the ground as Sean stepped out of the trees. He was woged, shooting another two verrat as Nick took down yet another.

 

Bemused, Alexander watched from his vantage point. It appeared the rumours of the grimm’s abilities had not been exaggerated. But more than that, he was fascinated by the way the grimm moved – completely at ease having a woged half-zauberbeist at his back, not even turning to look as he trusted the Captain to protect him.

 

All immediate threats eliminated, Nick paused, listening. He wasn’t worried about any other verrat creeping up on him. Not only was he listening – but he also had Sean at his back. Which meant he didn’t need to watch it himself.

 

“Nick?” Sean asked.

 

“That’s it,” Nick agreed, nodding to Monroe who stumbled into the clearing with blood around his mouth. As usual, Nick made no comment, simply thankful for his friend’s willingness to help protect him.

 

“Viktor?” Sean asked.

 

Nick sighed. “Decided to run,” he said. “Thankfully, it sounds like he’s not really much of a runner.” He shot Sean a toothy grin. “Shouldn’t take too long to catch up to him,” he said.

 

“Oh goody,” Monroe cut in, rolling his eyes at the blatant sexual tension between the other two – didn’t they get enough of each other the rest of the time? Did they really need to show their appreciation of each other in the middle of a fight? “A hunt.”

 

Sharing a quick look with Sean and Monroe, Nick set off into the woods at a fast jog.

 

Giving a shrug, Monroe followed to his left, Sean taking Nick’s right.

 

They raced through the woods, quickly gaining upon Viktor who, along with not being much of a runner, was also not that skilled at navigating the rougher terrain of the woods compared to his usual open lawns and paved roads.

 

Ducking around a tree, Nick grinned. They were close.

 

Jumping up into the lower branches of a pine, he ran along a sturdy limb, before leaping for the next – passing Viktor who stumbled along below. Another leap, and Nick let himself fall down to the ground in front of his prey.

 

Startled, Viktor skidded to a halt, a sharp sound of surprise leaving his throat. Turning, he moved to his left.

 

With a growl, Monroe cut Viktor off, red eyes glowing beneath his lowered brows.

 

Spinning in the opposite direction, Viktor scrambled backwards at the sight of Sean, also woged, and approaching him.

 

“How can you choose him over me?” Viktor demanded, turning back to Nick as he realised there would be no escape. He was surrounded.

 

Nick tilted his head to the side. “Haven’t we already been over this?” he asked. “Multiple times?”

 

“Look at him!” Viktor snapped, gesturing wildly towards the pulsing raw flesh on Sean’s face.

 

Nick smirked. “Oh,” he said, “believe me, I do.” He let his appreciation for Sean enter his voice, delighting in the way Viktor’s eyes widened in disbelief.

 

Nick sighed. “You have broken the laws of the canton,” he said, stepping forward towards Viktor. “You have been given Notice of Leave-Taking, and you have chosen to disregard it,” he continued. Viktor swallowed, stumbling backwards, only to gasp as he felt strong hands clamp down around his upper arms. He shuddered, knowing just who was holding him still.

 

Nick gave Sean a short nod. “Under the laws of this canton,” he continued, “as decreed by Sean Renard, community-approved ruler of said canton, the penalty is death.”

 

Viktor shook his head, eyes spinning wildly as he tried to find a way out. “You won’t!” he gasped out as Nick stepped closer. “You can’t! I am -”

 

His voice cut off, throat gurgling as Nick slammed the flat of his hand into Viktor’s neck, crushing his trachea. Eyes wide, Viktor gasped, unable to draw any air into his lungs. He shook, struggling, but Sean held him firm. Nick watched dispassionately.

 

Then, with a last shudder, Viktor went still. Tilting his head, Nick listened to the slowing beats of his heart, finally giving a nod.

 

“The law is upheld,” Nick said.

 

Sean looked up at him. “Thank you,” he said.

 

Nick grinned, suddenly bashful, giving a small shrug as he did so. Monroe rolled his eyes at the two of them.

 

“Okay, you two love birds,” he said. “Time to wrap this up. Think you can stand to tone down your flirting enough for us to head back?”

 

“But Monroe,” Nick replied, putting on a faux-whiny voice as he clapped Monroe on the shoulder. “Don’t you know how much watching Sean fight turns me on?”

 

Monroe wrinkled his nose. “Watching him fight?” he asked. “Or having him watch your back.” He held up one hand quickly when Nick opened his mouth to reply. “You know what? I don’t actually want to know.”

 

“Then I suppose you don’t want to know what watching Nick fight does to me?” Sean suggested lightly, sharing a quick grin with Nick.

 

Monroe threw his hands up in the air, grumbling under his breath as he stomped away from them.

 

Sean leant forward, pressing his lips to Nick’s. Nick wasn’t entirely sure whether he should be concerned about the fact that they were kissing over Viktor’s dead body, but then he got caught up in the kiss and forgot to keep worrying about it.

 

*

 

“Uncle Nick!” Carly exclaimed, breaking away from under Hank’s comforting arm as she saw Nick and the others approaching.

 

“Hey,” Nick replied, letting her wrap her arms around him as she pressed her face to his chest, breathing deep to catch his scent and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

 

“You’re okay,” she said.

 

“Of course I’m okay,” Nick replied. He pushed her back lightly so that he could look her in the eyes as he spoke. “I’m fine.”

 

Carly nodded, before wrinkling her nose as her eyes darted to his lips. “Seriously?” he asked, voice incredulous.

 

“What?” Nick asked. He reflexively licked his lips in response to her gaze, catching the taste of Sean still lingering on them. He blushed.

 

Carly laughed. “That’s what,” she said, stepping back with a shake of her head.

 

“You know,” Hank said, clapping a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “The whole point of us being partners is that I get to back you up.” He gave Nick an assessing look. “Everything okay.”

 

Nick nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s fine.” He turned to Carly. “Why don’t you come back to the precinct with us?” he asked. “I know you wanted to finish the day, but there isn’t much of it left, and I’d feel better keeping you in sight for a bit. At least until your dad can come get you.”

 

Carly bit her lip, turning to survey the rest of her class. The students were huddled into groups, talking excitedly to each other as they gossiped about the events of the day. “Somehow,” she said, “I don’t think anyone’s going to be doing much more work today, so, why not?”

 

“Great,” Nick said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze.

 

A few of the wesen students were giving Carly surprised and questioning glances, but she ignored them. She’d never made a big deal out of the fact that she knew the grimm – particularly because, at first, it had seemed more prudent to keep quiet about his existence. But with Nick choosing Sean (and vice-versa), he’d suddenly become more than just a whisper of rumours within the community.

 

“Come on,” Hank said, wrapping his arm back around her shoulders as he began to lead her towards the cars.

 

*

 

Alexander rode back to the precinct with Sean, saying that he’d like to talk to some of the wesen community – if there are any around who arewere wanting to talk to Nick as their grimm.

 

“Of course,” Sean agreed. He sighed. “Although we’re going to have to do something about that – it looks like they’ve really taken to the idea of coming to Nick. But I can’t have him available to answer their questions and concerns at all times.”

 

“Perhaps a set time each week when they can meet with him?” Alexander suggested.

 

“I was thinking along those lines,” Sean admitted. “Although we’ll need some way to try and determine who needs to wait and see him at the appointed time and who has an emergency that just can’t wait.”

 

“He seems to be taking to it all rather well,” Alexander commented.

 

Sean laughed lightly. “He always has,” he replied. “Nick’s always been good at adapting. When he first started showing signs of being a grimm… I wasn’t sure whether I should say anything or not. I had no idea what he had or hadn’t been taught by his aunt – though I suspected it wasn’t much. But he managed to swim, and swim well, without any help from me.”

 

“No,” Alexander replied, “instead he sought help from a blutbad.”

 

“Yeah,” Sean agreed. “Like I said, he’s good at adapting.” He glanced over at Alexander. “He’s also good at treating everyone like a person, and refusing to let others tell him what he should think.”

 

“All good qualities in someone who the wesen community want to have approved as one of their leaders.”

 

Sean didn’t reply.

 

*

 

“Nick,” Benson called, striding over towards the detective as he, Hank and Carly entered the precinct.

 

“Captain,” Nick replied with a grin. He glanced at Hank and Carly. “I’ll catch up with you,” he said.

 

Benson frowned, falling into step beside Nick, who slowed his pace so that Hank and Carly could pull ahead. “Rumour has it you’ve had an eventful day,” Benson said.

 

Nick glanced at him, but said nothing.

 

Benson chuckled. “All right,” he said, “I’ll ask. Prince Sean’s cousin?”

 

“Broke the laws of the canton,” Nick replied quietly, “and ignored his Notice of Leave-Taking.”

 

Benson sucked in his breath sharply, giving a nod. Behind them, the doors opened once more, letting in Sean and Alexander. Nick turned with a smile.

 

“Carly’s headed upstairs with Hank,” he explained as the other two joined them.

 

“Good,” Sean replied. “Though it’s unlikely she’ll be in any more danger.”

 

“Unlikely,” Nick agreed, “but I still feel better knowing she’s here with us.” Reaching out, he hit the button for the elevator. The doors opened moments later, and the four stepped inside.

 

Rocking back onto his heels, Nick let his muscles relax, consciously working through them. There was the soft scrape of a shoe against the floor, and he smiled, feeling Sean move up behind him – a line of heat all along his back.

 

Leaning back slightly further, Nick rested his weight against Sean, head dropping down onto the taller man’s shoulder. Taking the opportunity presented – and uncaring of their audience, who not only already knew about their ‘relationship’ but were also wesen, and in Sean’s canton, and therefore under his rule – Sean pressed his lips to Nick’s neck.

 

Moving upwards, Sean traced over Nick’s jawline, before capturing his lips as the grimm turned his head towards him.

 

Nick hummed contentedly, pressing his tongue against Sean’s.

 

Chuckling, Sean let his hands rest against Nick’s hips, drawing circles with his thumbs as he pulled Nick back against him.

 

Alexander cleared his throat. “You know,” he said, studiously not looking at them (although he made sure he could see them out of the corner of his eye), “there’s something I’ve been wondering.”

 

“Oh?” Nick managed to get out, Sean’s lips leaving his in order to trace further kisses along his jaw and neck. Tilting to give Sean better access, Nick slitted his eyes open in order to look over at Alexander.

 

“Yes. Why aren’t you two having sex?”

 

Nick choked. Sean froze.

 

Benson cleared his throat. “Do you really think that’s an appropriate question to be asking the Prince?” he demanded.

 

“I’m here on behalf of the Wesen Council,” Alexander replied, “who want to know more about the Prince, the Grimm, and their relationship, before coming to a decision regarding acknowledging them or not.”

 

Benson pursed his lips, but refused to lower his glare.

 

“It’s obvious to me,” Alexander continued, “that despite their rather enthusiastic… make out sessions, there hasn’t been any sex in at least a couple of days.”

 

Nick groaned. “You can tell that?” he asked.

 

“Scent,” Alexander replied with a shrug. “Not all wesen would be able to tell, and even I have to get rather close to you in order to do so, but I was asked to evaluate your relationship. So. No sex?”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Nick complained, leaning forward as he brought himself upright, throwing Sean an apologetic glance. “Sean’s mother decided to surprise us with a visit.”

 

There was a pause. Alexander blinked. Benson suppressed a laugh. Sean sighed.

 

“You’re the one who told her she could stay with us,” he reminded Nick.

 

“Yes,” Nick agreed. “Well, obviously, I didn’t really have any experience with having a partner’s parent in the house with me before, did I?”

 

“I’m not sure whether to include that in my report or not,” Alexander admitted, appearing somewhere between surprised, amused and sympathetic.

 

Nick waved one hand at him. “You can’t just say that we have a very loving, affectionate and physical relationship without specifying whether you’re talking about kissing or sex?” he asked. Then he grimaced. “And I can’t believe I actually just said that,” he added.

 

The lift came to a halt, doors opening. Wu, who was walking past, glanced at them. He frowned. “I don’t want to know, do I?” he said.

 

*

 

His report on the events of the day typed up, Nick leant back in his chair, stretching his neck. Hank had managed to get onto Jarold soon after they returned to the precinct. He had been understandably worried, but relieved to hear that Carly was with them. A last-minute work meeting had taken him out of the city, but he was on his way back.

 

While waiting, Carly was working diligently away at her homework, Nick and Hank having cleared some space for her between their desks.

 

Wu shook his head as he walked up to them. “Now I know I was never that studious as a teenager,” he said. Carly flashed him a quick grin.

 

Wu sighed. “Guess who’s here again?” he asked.

 

Nick frowned. “Frederick?” he said.

 

Nodding, Wu gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m about to go tell the Cap, you wanna come with?”

 

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, pushing himself to his feet.

 

*

 

Sean glanced up as Nick and Wu entered his office. Alexander was sitting on the couch at the back of the office, going through a few files on his phone.

 

“I take it this isn’t good news,” Sean said, placing down his pen and giving them his full attention.

 

Nick grimaced. That particular grimace he seemed to get around the royal half of Sean’s family. Sean sighed.

 

“Frederick?” he asked.

 

Wu glanced between them. “O-kay,” he said. “I’m not even going to ask how you managed to convey that without words – unless one, or both, of you are telepathic? No? Okay. Should I bring him up?”

 

“I suppose you had better,” Sean replied.

 

He leant back in his chair, arms crossed as he waited. Settling in against the side of Sean’s desk, half perched on it, Nick also crossed his arms. And waited.

 

*

 

It didn’t take long for Wu to return with Frederick. The older man was paler than usual, a pinched look around his eyes that suggested the day had not been without some stress on his part.

 

“I am here to beg your pardon,” he began immediately, eyes darting to Nick. He swallowed. “It has come to my attention that Viktor has not yet left the canton. He was booked on a flight and should have left already, but..” Frederick’s gaze darted between them. “I beg your pardon for bringing him into your canton,” he said.

 

“Not for Viktor?” Sean asked.

 

Frederick scowled. “Viktor,” he spat out the name, “has made his own bed. Now he must lie in it.”

 

“He is,” Nick stated simply.

 

Frederick’s gaze snapped to Nick, and he sighed, before nodding. “Well, that is that, then,” he said. “Still, I would beg your pardon. Had I known what trouble he would cause, I would never have brought him here.”

 

“But you did,” Nick said. “And _you’re_ still here.”

 

“I am,” Frederick agreed. “But when I leave here, I am headed straight to the airport. They are preparing the jet as we speak.”

 

“Viktor’s crimes were many,” Sean said, leaning forward as he stared at the man who had sired him. “They are not something that can be easily forgotten.”

 

“Nor should they be,” Frederick agreed. “I shall certainly not be allowing anyone else such leeway until they have proven themselves.” His gaze moved to Nick. “The verrat he brought in to join him were not a problem?” he asked.

 

Nick grinned, letting his teeth show. “Should they have been?” he asked.

 

Frederick gave a short laugh. “You are remarkable,” he said. “My son has done very well in capturing your attention.” He paused. “Perhaps you would not mind spending some time in Austria?” he suggested. “Nothing permanent, but it would do very well for the people to see what a strong alliance Sean has. Not to mention the benefits for you, personally.

 

“Any who consult with the Family on matters of security are paid extremely well.”

 

“You’re kidding me,” Nick said, shaking his head, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

 

Alexander, quietly watching the entire thing, noted the hint of amusement that appeared on Sean’s face as he leant back to watch the show.

 

“Not at all,” Frederick replied. “You are an extremely skilled grimm. While your devotion to my son is admirable, I’m sure that he would be able to spare you for a month or two. Just enough time for your presence in Austria, and your protection of the Family, to become known.

 

“You would be paid whatever you desire – money, land, a title, women even. And then you could return here to Sean, and continue on as you have been – still protecting the Family.”

 

Nick scoffed. “Why is it,” he demanded, “that everyone seems to think I’m some kind of overpriced prostitute?”

 

Frederick blinked. “What?” he asked.

 

“My alliances,” Nick said, pushing himself to his feet and moving to stand by Sean’s shoulder, “are _not_ up for sale. As Viktor found to his detriment. I suggest that, unlike him, you quickly disabuse yourself of such a notion and not bring it up again.”

 

Frederick smiled, then he laughed. “My son has done _very_ well indeed with you,” he said. “The Annual Ball of Treatise is coming up. I would see you both there.”

 

That said, he turned on his heel, swiftly leaving the office.

 

Sean stared after him.

 

Nick frowned. “What’s the Annual Ball of Treatise?” he asked.

 

“It’s a ball thrown by the royal families,” Alexander said, standing as he moved to join them. “One where any warring factions set aside their differences for a day and a night. Also one where main treaties and alliances are declared officially.”

 

Nick turned his gaze to Sean.

 

“No-one ever turns down an invitation,” Sean said, “and if we went, everyone would expect us to announce our bonding there.”

 

“Bonding?”

 

“Like a wesen marriage.”

 

Nick gaped. Then he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well,” he declared. “ _That’s_ not going to happen. At least, not before you _actually ask_ me _.”_

 

_*_

 

The rest of the day passed in somewhat of a haze for Nick. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to Sean to ask him to marry him or not. He did, because, let’s face it, Sean was the sexiest partner he’d ever had, and he really didn’t want their ‘fake’ relationship to end. Marriage would make it indefinite.

 

Then again, he didn’t want Sean asking him just because it was expected of them. So yeah, he admitted, to himself at least, that he really wanted their relationship to be less ‘fake’ and more _real_.

 

Which, marriage was pretty real, so that put another tick in the ‘please let Sean ask’ column.

 

Sighing, Nick, let his head thump down onto the table.

 

Hank glanced over at him. “You okay?” he asked.

“Sean’s father invited us to some fancy ball.”

 

“Okay? And?”

 

“And, apparently, you can’t really decline.”

 

Hank grimaced. “Still,” he said, “you go, you dance, you leave?”

 

“If we go,” Nick explained, “everyone will expecting Sean and I to announce our engagement. It’s kinda traditional, or something.”

 

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Hank said, “but, is that really such a bad thing?” He shrugged when Nick lifted his head to look over at him. “The way the two of you have been acting,” he continued, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did announce your engagement. Do you not want to marry him?”

 

“It’s not that,” Nick replied, glancing down at his desk in order to look away from Hank. “Rather, I don’t want him to ask me simply because it’s ‘expected’.”

 

“Ah,” Hank agreed. He shrugged. “You could always elope. Turn up to this ball already married?”

 

Nick laughed. “I don’t know if that’d make it any better or not,” he said, “but thanks for the idea.”

 

“No problem.”

 

*

 

By the time the day ended, Nick was more than ready to head home. It wasn’t the thought of leaving the precinct, or a home cooked meal, or changing into more comfortable clothes, that had him longing to head home.

 

But rather the thought of heading home with, or to, Sean. Of being able to step through his front door into a space where they could simply be together. And, he was seriously planning some quality snuggling time on the couch (not that he called in that. In his head, it carried the much manlier title of ‘quality physical reassurance time’).

 

“Ready to head home?” Nick asked, poking his head into Sean’s office.

 

“Just give me ten minutes,” Sean replied, glancing up at him with a soft smile.

 

“Great,” Nick said. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out his car keys, tossing them towards Sean, who caught them with a bemused look on his face. “Jarold’s here,” Nick explained. “I’ll get Hank to drop us off, so I can introduce them to Elizabeth, and we’ll see you at home soon.”

 

“I’ll be there,” Sean agreed.

 

Nodding, Nick turned to leave, before changing his mind. Stepping into Sean’s office, he moved over to the older man, leaning down to give him a kiss.

 

“Ten minutes,” Nick murmured.

 

“Ten minutes,” Sean agreed.

 

*

 

Hank insisted on coming inside with them, partly wanting to keep assuring himself that Carly was okay, but also out of an, unspoken, burning curiousity to meet the Captain’s mother.

 

“Elizabeth?” Nick called, opening the front door, before ushering the others inside.

 

“Nick,” she replied, moving into the room, lifting an eyebrow in question when she saw his guests.

 

Nick grinned at her. “Elizabeth,” he said, “this is my partner, Hank, his goddaughter, Carly, and her father, Jarold. Guys, this is Elizabeth, Sean’s mother.”

 

“Ma’am,” Jarold said.

 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said, “it’s Elizabeth.” She turned her gaze back to Nick. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

 

Nick shrugged. “It is now,” he said. “Viktor decided he didn’t want to leave. He threatened Carly to try and get my attention.”

 

Elizabeth scowled. “I hope you dealt with him,” she said.

 

“I did,” Nick agreed.

 

“Good.” Giving herself a little shake, she turned to the others with a smile. “Well, come in, then,” she said. “Don’t want you standing around in the doorway all evening. I’ve just started on some dinner,” she added, giving Nick a glance, “do you know when Sean will be home?”

 

“He promised ten minutes,” Nick replied, “but, knowing Sean.”

 

Elizabeth frowned. “Well, he’d better be here,” she said, “or I hope you punish him somehow.”

 

Hank watched in delight as Nick blushed. Brilliantly.

 

“You know,” he told Elizabeth, “I think you and I are going to get on tremendously.”

 

*

 

Sean, Nick was thankful to note, arrived not much later – which saved them the trouble of having Elizabeth tease them mercilessly about ‘punishment’. He brought Alexander with him.

 

“You must be Elizabeth Lascelles,” he greeted Sean’s mother.

 

“I am,” she replied, eyeing him speculatively.

 

Alexander smiled. “You must be very proud of your son.”

 

“Exceedingly.”

 

“You don’t mind his relationship with a grimm?”

 

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Sean,” she said, “why is this man here?”

 

Nick sighed. “Alexander works for the Wesen Council,” he explained. “He’s here to assess our relationship.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because the wesen of Portland have requested that the Council acknowledge and ratify your son as ruler of Portland,” Alexander said, “and, by extension, the grimm as his Chosen.”

 

“Then,” said Elizabeth, “all you really need to know is that I have never seen my son happier than he is with said grimm.” Her smile was less reassuring and more challenging, but Alexander seemed capable enough of mostly ignoring it.

 

*

 

Dinner was a rather boisterous affair, with Carly demanding a recounting of the events of the day (which was severely edited and embellished upon before being given), and Hank quizzing her on her studies. Elizabeth was equally happy to quiz those around her, in order to find out more about those her son spent time with.

 

Nick was happy enough to sit next to Sean, chair angled so that their sides brushed up against each other, one hand twined with Sean’s beneath the table as he ate with the other.

 

Elizabeth had cooked, pushing Nick and Sean out of the kitchen when they went to help her, and demanding, instead that they simply relax after their long day.

 

“You know,” Hank said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “I don’t think I have eaten so well in a very long time.” He smiled at Elizabeth. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she replied, standing to begin to gather plates.

 

Nick’s arm shot out, lightly grasping her wrist as he shook his head at her with a grin. “You cooked,” he said. “That means someone else can clean.”

 

“Guess that’s our queue,” Jarold said, nudging Hank as he got to his feet.

 

“There’s no need -” Nick began.

 

“Nick,” Jarold replied. “You protected my little girl today -”

 

“Dad!” Carly protested.

 

“-so I think helping clean up, after having helped create the mess, is the least I can do.” He gave Nick’s shoulder a squeeze. “I insist,” he said. “Why don’t you and Sean take some time to relax.” The way his eyes twinkled suggested he wasn’t exactly talking about them doing nothing.

 

“Excellent,” Elizabeth said, clapping her hands together and beginning to usher Sean and Nick out of the room. “Go relax.”

 

Nick blushed, shaking his head. He glanced at Sean out of the corner of his eyes, gaze narrowing as he saw Sean’s amusement. “I’m still not having sex while your mother’s in the house!” he hissed.

 

Behind them, Alexander shook his head with a smile.

 

Rolling his eyes, Nick began to climb the stairs. “We need to set up the other guest room, anyway,” he said.

 

“Got it,” Hank replied, giving Nick a shove towards his bedroom. “I’ll get it set up, you go relax.”

 

Nick gave his partner a glare. “Why is everyone so interested in us relaxing?” he asked.

 

Hank gave him a disbelieving look. “You do realise that the two of you spent the majority of the afternoon staring longingly at each other, right?” he asked.

 

*

 

Hustled into the bedroom, their guests refusing to let them do anything else, Nick turned to face Sean.

 

“What now?” he asked.

 

Sean smirked. “What would you like to do?” he asked.

 

“Honestly?” Nick shrugged. “I would really like it if you just held me.” He bit his lip, before forcing himself to let go of it. Unsure how Sean would react to his request.

 

Feeling of wash of affection for his ‘fake’ Chosen, Sean stepped closer to Nick. “I can do that,” he said. Reaching out, he drew Nick into his arms, letting the sound of Nick’s heartbeat wash over him.

 

Despite having been there, in the woods, with Nick, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to spend some time reassuring himself that Nick was fine.

 

They stood there, just holding on, for a few minutes, before stumbling over towards the bed. Ignoring their usual routine of changing into pyjama pants, Nick and Sean simply stripped down to their underwear, before slipping under the covers.

 

Immediately, Nick rolled back towards Sean, twining his legs around Sean’s to keep them in place, and pressing a light kiss to Sean’s collarbone.

 

In response, Sean wrapped his arms around Nick’s waist, drawing him closer, before freeing one hand in order to tilt Nick’s face up towards his and kissing him.

 

The kiss was lazy, relaxed. Neither trying to arouse or to reach any kind of end any time soon. Sighing into it, Nick relaxed against Sean, letting all his worries and fears of the day drift away as he focused solely on the feel of Sean’s lips against his.

 

Later, neither could say how long they lay there, sharing breath and kisses, drawing comfort from the other and reassuring themselves that each was still alive and well. It could have been minutes. Or hours.

 

But somewhere along the way they fell asleep, still pressed together.

 

*

 

Closing the door quietly, Elizabeth smiled. Despite the covers, it was clear to see that her son and the grimm were wrapped around each other.

 

She smirked, remembering Alexander mentioning that they had been invited to the Annual Ball of Treatise. Good. She couldn’t think of anything better than to have her son and the grimm bound together. The grimm made her son happy and really, what more could a mother ask for?

 

 

 

 


	10. Day Seven - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Sean do some more mutual pining, Nick climbs a tree, Alexander talks to them about his report the Council, and Juliette appears to add in her opinion on the Nick/Sean relationship.

Nick woke much as he had for the past week – tangled up in Sean. Smiling, eyes closed, Nick pressed closer to Sean contentedly, letting out a soft hum when Sean automatically tightened his arms around the grimm in response.

 

Lying there, hearing the quiet sounds of early morning – birds beginning to wake up and greet the day, the hushed movements of those getting up to prepare for work, and the rhythmic slap of a very early jogger’s feet against the pavement – Nick thought back over the past week.

 

One week. Had it really only been that long? He could barely believe that, only a week ago, waking as he had would have been a foreign thought. That he would have woken, alone, and thought nothing of it.

 

That it was only a week ago that Sean had called him into his office and asked Nick to pretend to be in a relationship with him.

 

He firmed his grip around Sean. He knew it was silly – Sean was hardly trying to leave, and Nick’s thoughts weren’t going to make him suddenly disappear – but he had the irrational urge to make sure that Sean _couldn’t_ go anywhere.

 

In only a week, he’d become so much a part of Nick’s life – slotting in as though he was always meant to be there. And Nick didn’t want to go back to a life without Sean in it.

 

Which meant that he needed to make sure Sean never wanted to leave. Nick let that thought drift through his mind, unconsciously rubbing his cheek against Sean’s shoulder as he pressed his face into the other man’s neck to better draw in the scent of him.

 

The question was, how would he make sure Sean knew Nick was the absolute best option for him? That Nick was the best possible chosen and bonded? What would make Sean never want to leave Nick?

 

*

 

Sean woke wrapped around his grimm, with said grimm pressing his face into Sean’s neck and breathing deeply, as though trying to memorise his scent. Taking note of where his limbs were – arms wrapped tightly around the grimm’s torso, left leg tangled between Nick’s, right leg wrapped around them – Sean slowly stroked his hand up and down the grimm’s spine.

 

Nick hummed happily, pressing closer to Sean, his breath washing over the captain’s neck. Smiling, Sean continued to stroke down Nick’s back.

 

He hadn’t thought, a week ago, that the grimm would take to pretending to be in a relationship with him quite so well. Had feared their ruse would be up as soon as Nick jumped at his presence or pulled back from a show of affection.

 

But that hadn’t happened.

 

Instead, Nick  had slipped into that space beside Sean as though he’d always intended to be there. There was one thing Sean hadn’t lied about over the week, however, and that was that Nick  _was_ his Chosen. 

 

Sean had chosen the grimm long ago, even if Nick hadn’t been aware of it at the time. All he had to do now, was convince Nick that being Sean’s Chosen was what  the grimm wanted. That,  therefore, Nick also wanted to Bond with him. 

 

Letting his hand drift up to the base of Nick’s skull, fingers tangling in the hair there, stroking firmly yet gently, Sean determined to do whatever it took to convince Nick to stay with him.

 

*

 

Pressing back into Sean’s fingers, Nick smiled, his own hands beginning to stroke over the smoothly muscled expanse of skin that made up Sean’s back.

 

He could lie in bed with Sean for hours.

 

Downstairs, the doorbell rang.

 

Nick groaned.  He felt Sean’s scowl against his forehead as Sean turned his face towards him.

 

“Who is ringing your doorbell at this hour?” Sean demanded.

 

“Mrs Daisy,” Nick replied with a sigh. “About once a week her cat gets himself stuck up a tree and she comes over to ask me to get him down.”

 

There was silence as Sean digested that information. “Once a week you climb a tree to get your neighbour’s cat down?” he asked, a slight bit of disbelief coupled with humour in his tone.

 

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, gently pushing back as he began to disentangle himself from Sean. “You can be thankful it hasn’t happened before now.”

 

Reluctantly, Sean let Nick go, watching as the grimm sat on the edge of the bed for a moment,  before standing and grabbing the nearest shirt. Which just so happened to be Sean’s from the day before. Pulling it on, Nick then grabbed Sean’s sleep pants, rolling them at the waist and ankles so that he wasn’t tripping over them, before stumbling out of the room.

 

An inordinately pleased and proud feeling swelled in Sean’s chest at the sight. He would have to find a way to reward Nick for wearing his clothes.

 

The doorbell rang again.

 

Groaning, Sean pushed himself out of the bed – after all, if what Nick said was true, then if he positioned himself accordingly, he’d be able to get a good view of his grimm’s backside as he climbed a tree – and found some clothes of his own to wear.

 

*

 

Opening the front door, Nick smiled at his elderly neighbour.

 

“Hey, Mrs Daisy,” he said, “Fluffy up the tree again?”

 

Mrs Daisy’s eyes widened as she took him in, before twinkling in mirth. Frowning, Nick glanced down at himself, only to realise he’d dressed in some of Sean’s clothes. Admittedly, the Captain’s pants did look a little silly on him due to said captain’s insanely long legs. Still, at least he was surrounded by Sean’s scent.

 

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Mrs Daisy said, giving him an apologetic smile. “But yes, Fluffy has managed to get himself stuck again.”

 

Nodding, Nick  stepped outside, motioning her before him. “Let’s get him down, then,” he said. 

 

They crossed the grass – covered in early morning dew, over to Mrs Daisy’s front yard, where a large pine grew at the front and a small, orange cat could be seen high up in the branches.

 

With a sigh, Nick reached up, swinging himself into the lowest branches with the ease of long practice. Footsteps against the grass made him turn, giving Sean a half-quizzical, half-happy look.

 

“Sean,” he said. “What are you...”

 

Sean laughed. “What? You didn’t think I’d miss the opportunity to watch you climb a tree, did you?” he asked, moving closer.

 

Mrs Daisy gave him a suspicious look, watching the direction of his eyes. “Hmph,” she said. “I doubt  _that’s_ what you’re watching.”

 

Nick glanced down in confusion, before catching the sharp look Mrs Daisy shot Sean, and the totally unrepentant way Sean grinned back at her, before focusing his eyes on a certain part of Nick’s anatomy.

 

In response, Nick turned back to continue climbing the tree, giving his ass a deliberate shake as he did so.

 

“Mr Nick!” Mrs Daisy exclaimed in mock-shock, before bursting into giggles.

 

Cheeks flushing, Nick darted a glance back down towards Sean, who hadn’t changed the direction of his gaze.

 

Reaching Fluffy, Nick gave the cat a small smile. “Hey, Fluffy,” he said. “You ready to come down yet?”

 

Yawning, Fluffy fixed him with an unimpressed gaze,  before standing and stretching – fur puffing out around him – and leaping lightly up into the higher branches with a hiss.

 

“Guess not,” Nick muttered.

 

*

 

N oticing voices outside, Carly glanced out the window to see Captain Renard – the Prince! - staring up at a tree in the neighbouring yard while standing beside an older woman. Following his gaze,  s he blinked to see Nick up the tree.

 

“What are you looking at?” Hank asked, coming up beside her and giving her hair a soft ruffle.

 

Ducking out from under his hand, Carly shook her head, while heading for the front door. “Uncle Nick’s climbing a tree,” she said.

 

Hank paused, watching her for a moment, before sharing a glance with Jarold. “I wish I could say that actually surprised me,” he said, “but, somehow, it doesn’t.”

 

Making their way outside, the trio watched as Nick reached for an orange cat, only to have it dart away from him and further up into the tree.

 

“Oh dear,” the older woman muttered, “Fluffy really doesn’t want to come down today.”

 

“This happen often?” Hank asked in surprise.

 

“Apparently once a week,” Renard replied, never taking his eyes from Nick. Or rather, Hank realised, a certain part of Nick. And that was something he could have gone without knowing. Shaking his head, he called up to Nick.

 

“Need any help, partner?” he asked.

 

Nick glanced down at him. “Why?” he asked. “You offering?”

 

Hank snorted. “To climb the tree with you? No. I could, however, go get a camera.”

 

The look Nick shot him suggested that he was only refraining from sending Hank a rather rude gesture due to the presence of Carly. Hank chuckled. The cat climbed higher. Nick followed it.

 

*

 

Balanced precariously in the upper-most branches of the tree, Nick stared across at Fluffy.

 

“Come on, Fluffy,” he said, “you don’t want to stay up here all day, do you?”

 

The cat stared back at him, fur on end in fright as it glanced down at the ground below, but refusing to come any closer to Nick and hissing at him when he reached for it.

 

Sighing, Nick glanced down at his audience, before considering the tree. Normally, he’d patiently wait for Fluffy to get comfortable enough with him so that he could grab the cat and climb down. However, his rather enjoyable morning snuggling with Sean had been interrupted by said cat, and he’d really rather get back to the snuggling (or other things, his mind whispered), than spend any more time trying to retrieve the cat.

 

Still, he couldn’t just leave Fluffy up the tree.

 

“Sean,” he called.

 

“Nick,” Sean replied.

 

“Trust me,” he said. Then he jumped.

 

*

 

Sean, and the others, watched in stunned disbelief, and horror, as Nick shifted where he was, before leaping forward and  _out of the tree_ , snagging the cat on the way.

 

Twisting as he fell, Nick reached out with one hand, catching hold of one of the longer branches on his way down. It creaked and bent beneath his grasp, slowing his fall just slightly, before Nick let go, dropping the rest of the way, to land in a tumble that dispersed his momentum through motion.

 

Coming to a halt back on his feet, Nick turned to grin at them, the look on his face all little boy, ‘did you see what I did there?!’

 

“Fluffy!” Mrs Daisy cried. The cat, terrified, had wrapped itself around Nick’s arm, and eagerly leapt from him to be pampered by his owner.

 

“Nicholas Burkhardt!” Sean snapped.

 

Carly took a step back. It looked like Uncle Nick was really going to be in for it now.

 

“Yes?” Nick asked, smile dimming, but still looking entirely too innocent considering what he’d just done.

 

“Just _what_ , exactly, did you think you were doing?” Sean hissed, stepping up so that he was towering over his grimm, and poking his finger into the grimm’s chest. “You could have been injured!”

 

Nick spread his arms out to either side. “I’m fine,” he said, as though that made everything okay. “Really. And I just wanted to hurry up and get the cat down so that we could go back to bed,” he added, when Sean continued to glare at him, before freezing as he realised just what he’d said.

 

Stifling a snicker, Carly turned and headed back into the house. There were some things she didn’t need to know.

 

Sean paused, thrown-off by Nick’s answer. “What?” he managed to get out.

 

Nick pouted. “I wanted to be able to go back to bed,” he repeated, “where I was quite happily enjoying my morning before we were interrupted.”

 

Sean narrowed his eyes. He wanted to simply agree with the grimm, grab his hand, and drag him back up to bed – but the younger man had to be made to understand that he simply couldn’t go around engaging in dangerous stunts simply because he was impatient to get back to Sean (even if Sean wanted him impatient to get back to him).

 

“That is _not_ a good enough reason,” Sean snapped. “You could have been hurt,” he repeated.

 

Nick rolled his eyes. “I knew I’d be fine,” he said.

 

“You -” Sean cut himself off, suddenly extremely aware that they were standing in Nick’s neighbour’s front yard. Reaching out, he grasped hold of Nick’s wrist, giving it a firm tug as he turned on his heel and headed back towards the house. “Come with me,” he demanded.

 

*

 

Dragged along by Sean, Nick gave Hank, Jarold, Carly, Alexander and Elizabeth a rueful grin as he was pulled through the entry and back up the stairs.

 

Sean dragged him all the way to his bedroom, before giving Nick a firm shove inside and shutting the door sharply behind them.

 

“Sean?” Nick asked. He had an uncomfortable feeling that he’d really managed to make Sean mad. Was it because he’d assumed the other man would be happy to go back to bed with him? Maybe Sean thought Nick was getting too much into this whole fake relationship thing.

 

Sean shook his head, pacing in front of Nick. “I’m angry at you,” he admitted, making Nick swallow.

 

“I’m sorry,” Nick said.

 

Sean paused, turning slowly to look at Nick and tilting his head to the side as he considered him. “Do you know why I’m angry?” Sean asked.

 

Nick opened his mouth to reply, before pausing. He wasn’t sure he wanted to suggest what he was actually thinking. Whether he was wrong or right, it would be incredibly embarrassing. And he’d rather not put any ideas into Sean’s head if he was wrong.

 

Seeing Nick hesitate, Sean sighed. He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’m angry,” he said, “because you put yourself in danger for no reason.”

 

Nick scowled. “Firstly,” he snapped, “I wasn’t in danger. Secondly, I  _had_ a reason.” He fought back the grin that wanted to break out in response to the news that Sean wasn’t mad about the bed comment.

 

“Not a good enough one!” Sean snapped back.

 

Nick folded his arms across his chest and glared defiantly.  Sean stepped closer to him, until they were toe-to-toe, forcing the grimm to look up to meet his gaze.

 

“You,” Sean hissed, “are _mine_. _My_ Chosen. That means that you must take care of yourself and not put yourself in harms way for a cat!”

 

Ignoring the pleasure that washed over him at Sean’s statement of his claim, Nick scowled. “I just wanted to hurry back to you!” he said.

 

“Then you should have left the cat behind!”

 

Blinking, Nick realised  the backs of his knees were bumping against the bed, Sean having backed him up as they spoke.  Shocked out of his own frustration at Sean’s anger, Nick was able to take in the tension etched in the older man’s eyes, the rigid way he was holding himself, and realised Sean likely wasn’t really, or only, talking about Nick jumping down from the tree.

 

“I’m fine,” he repeated, reaching up to place his hands on Sean’s shoulders, feeling the tight muscles there. He tugged gently, until Sean was pressed up against him. “Feel me,” he muttered, “I’m fine. I’m safe. I’m okay.”

 

With a shudder, Sean pressed up against Nick, leaning into him until Nick tumbled backward onto the bed, his grip on Sean’s shoulders pulling the older man down on top of him.

 

Biting his lip at the feel of Sean’s weight pressing him down, Nick stretched, letting Sean settle between his legs.  Hands running soothingly over Sean’s arms, Nick let them drift down to the captain’s hands, grabbing them and placing them firmly against his chest, letting Sean feel his heartbeat.

 

“I’m fine,” he repeated.

 

Letting out his breath in a rush, Sean leant forward, resting his forehead against Nick’s. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I over-reacted.”

 

“And I probably shouldn’t have been jumping recklessly out of trees the morning after we had to deal with Viktor and a whole bunch of verrat,” Nick admitted. “It’s okay,” he added, when Sean didn’t move, “do whatever you want to to ensure I’m fine.”

 

Lifting his head, Sean stared down at him. The amount of trust the grimm had in him was always astounding to him. How could the other man trust him so much? With so much? How could he give Sean carte blanche to do with him what he wanted so easily?

 

Reaching down, Nick began to undo his shirt – Sean’s shirt – letting it fall open to show his chest.  That was all it took.

 

Leaning down, Sean kissed the hollow of Nick’s throat, before nosing and kissing his way down his grimm’s chest. Feeling the beating of Nick’s heart, the warmth of his blood pulsing through him. The strength and stretch of muscle.

 

He was pleased to note the grimm’s bruises and cuts had mostly healed, but took the time to lathe special attention upon them nonetheless.

 

Nick stretched beneath him, arching up into Sean’s caresses.

 

“I like it when you do that,” Nick said, staring at Sean from under his eyelashes, “make sure I’m okay.” Sean paused, tongue leaving Nick’s navel, as he glanced up at the detective. What, exactly, was Nick trying to tell him?

 

R eaching down, Nick  pushed at the pants hanging off his hips, letting Sean’s sleep pants take his underwear with them as he pushed them down. Sean obliging ly lifted up so that Nick could shove the pants down, before kicking them off and onto the floor somewhere.

 

Settling back down onto the grimm, Sean  continued his ministrations.

 

Letting out a shaky breath, Nick stared up at the ceiling, sure that, should he watch Sean, his reaction to that sight would be unavoidable. He wanted to give Sean time to reassure himself that Nick was fine. That wouldn’t happen if Nick got too turned on to lie still and let Sean gain said reassurance.

 

Reaching the grimm’s feet, Sean tapped against Nick’s hip, silently asking him to turn over. Nick did so instantly, sinking back down into the bed on his front as Sean began to make his way back up.

 

Every inch of the grimm was licked and kissed and examined. Reaching the base of his neck, Sean lathed against the skin there, sucking it between his teeth and worrying it until a large red mark was left behind.

 

Nick hummed beneath him, simply enjoying the weight of his chosen pressing him down into the bed, and the knowledge that Sean was deliberately marking him leave a happy thrill of anticipation in his veins.

 

The door banged open.

 

“Oh shit!” Hank exclaimed.

 

The door slammed shut.

 

“Warn a guy!” Hank snapped through the door, before adding, “I thought you weren’t having sex while the Captain’s mother was in the house!”

 

Rolling his eyes, Nick lifted his head enough to reply. “This isn’t sex!” he called, though the petulance that crept into his voice clearly suggested that he would have preferred to have been able to say that it was.

 

Sean pressed his lips against Nick’s ear. “I already told you I wouldn’t mind,” he murmured.

 

Nick shuddered, Sean smirking at the feeling. He bit gently down upon the grimm’s ear, giving it a tug. Nick groaned.

 

“I am _never_ going to be able to un-see that,” Hank complained from the other side of the door.

 

“Then perhaps you should try knocking first before opening doors,” Sean replied calmly, but with a hint of steel that suggested he _really_ wasn’t happy about being disturbed.

 

“Believe me,” Hank replied, “I will!”

 

There was a pause.

 

“The station called,” Hank added, “we’ve got a case.”

 

Nick groaned again – but this time it was in frustration.

 

“I’ll wait downstairs,” Hank added, before there was the sound of his footsteps retreating. 

 

Huffing, Nick rolled over as best he could with Sean draped over him, letting his hands come up to play over the captain’s shoulders. “ Are you okay?” he asked, eyes searching Sean’s. “I’m sure I can stall a bit if you need me to.”

 

Sean sighed. He wanted to say he wasn’t okay, that he needed the grimm there longer, needed Nick to himself longer. But the truth was he was feeling much more settled having explored all of his Chosen’s body once more, assuring himself there was no lasting damage. And he would hardly be a very good captain if he encouraged the detective to stall.

 

“I’m fine,” he said, repeating Nick’s words. “Thank you.”

 

Nick smiled up at him, open and honest and simply  _happy_ to have made Sean feel better. It made Sean’s chest hurt at how good it made him feel.

 

*

 

Showered, dressed, and with the taste of Sean lingering on his lips (having been pulled into a deep kiss before leaving the bedroom), Nick joined Hank downstairs.

 

For a moment, he thought that Hank was going to comment on what he’d walked into, before the other man seemed to think better of it. “Come on,” Hank said, leading the way to the door.

 

“Here,” Elizabeth called after them, pushing sandwiches into Nick’s and Hank’s hands. “Can’t let you leave without having breakfast,” she said with a smile. She patted Nick’s cheek, her eyes expressing her gratitude, and Nick worried just how much of the morning’s activities she was actually aware of. At least she seemed to approve.

 

*

 

The morning passed quickly and, considering the past week, relatively normally, for Nick. He and Hank visited the scene of a homicide, before spending the rest of their morning chasing leads.

 

Pushing back from his desk at lunch-time, Nick stretched his neck and gave his shoulders a shake. A quick glance at Hank showed the other detective also ready for a break.

 

“Nick,” the warm voice made Nick look up, glancing over to see Elizabeth entering the room.

 

“Elizabeth,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and moving over towards her. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Everything’s fine,” she replied, smiling at him. “I simply hoped to catch you before you headed off for your lunch.”

 

Nick looked at her quizzically. He couldn’t quite think of a reason that she would want to catch him before his lunch that was completely ‘fine’. Still, she had yet to lie to him, so he waited patiently.

 

Elizabeth’s smile broadened. “I was hoping I could get the keys to the apartment from you,” she said.

 

Nick blinked. “The apartment?” he asked. Even as he spoke, he was fishing his keys from his pocket.

 

“Yes. I thought, perhaps, that I might head over there some time this afternoon.”

 

Nick frowned.

 

Elizabeth laughed. “Relax,” she said, “I’m not going anywhere else. But, I do think you and my son need a little bit of alone time – which you aren’t getting with me hanging around the house.”

 

Nick opened his mouth to respond, but she held up one hand, cutting him off.

 

“I know,” she said, “and I appreciate your willingness to have me interrupting you time with Sean. I’m also glad to know my son has a Chosen who is more than willing to put aside his own desires,” (Nick blushed at those words), “in order to ensure he is able to spend time with his mother. That said, I’m also aware that the last few days have been, shall we say, particularly difficult.” She fixed Nick with a knowing look. “And while I wouldn’t mind if you decided to spend some time in more, physical, reassurance, despite my presence in the house, I’ve had the impression you’re not entirely comfortable with that.”

 

Nick half hoped the ground would open up and swallow him. This was _not_ what he wanted to talking to his chosen’s mother about. He didn’t think his face could get any redder.

 

“So,” Elizabeth continued blithely, as though she hadn’t just reduced Nick’s face to a shade of red it had never seen before. “That said, I’m sure you can understand why I think spending some time at the apartment would be good.” She held out her hand.

 

Glancing down, Nick flipped through his keys, finding the newest addition and removing it from the keyring.

 

“Just promise you’re not going anywhere soon,” he said, holding it out to her.

 

“Of course not,” Elizabeth replied with a gentle shake of her head and a smile. “This is the first time in a long time I’ve been in a place where the Community is stable and united enough to make it safe for me to spend some time with my son.” She let her fingers twine around Nick’s, giving a brief squeeze. “I’ll spend the evening at the apartment, and see you both tomorrow.” She paused, fixing him with a serious gaze, all lightness leaving her expression to be replaced with a profound gratitude. “Thank you,” she said.

 

Nick nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat, not quite sure what to say in response. He still found it hard to believe that the simple announcement that he and Sean were ‘together’ had done so much to unite the Community and make the canton safe.

 

“Now,” said Elizabeth, starting to head towards the door. “Enjoy your evening, Nick, and take care of my son.” She grinned brilliantly, voice rising as she left, so that almost the entire bullpen was staring at Nick.

 

Sighing, the detective slumped back into his chair, head thudding down onto his desk.

 

Hank laughed. A few others catcalled, and Wu demanded to know if that had been the Captain’s mother and, if so, when Nick had met her and how they got along. Suspecting the answers to those questions would be ending a number of betting pools, Nick refrained from answering.

 

*

 

Having eaten lunch with Hank – Sean having had to head off to City Hall earlier (and therefore thankfully missing Elizabeth’s visit – although perhaps if he had been there, Nick would have had some help in trying to prevent her from embarrassing him completely) – Nick returned to work for the afternoon.

 

He was able to get through some more paperwork, while waiting for the results of some tests they’d asked for in the morning, and was just beginning to think he may actually run out of busy work, when he glanced up to see Wu headed in his direction with a funny look on his face.

 

“So,” said Wu, coming to a halt by Nick and Hank’s desks.

 

“So?” Hank asked.

 

Wu rocked on his heels, looking at them – but rather more at Nick than at Hank.

 

Nick sighed. “What is it?” he asked.

 

“There’s a number of people here, asking for you again,” Wu said.

 

Nick sighed. “Guess I’d better go speak to them.”

 

*

 

Thankfully, the wesen who had sought Nick out did not have any pressing problems which he needed to deal with immediately. A number of concerns had been brought to his attention, along with a request for his presence at the next meeting of the Lodge, an invitation for he and Sean (the Prince) to attend a jagerbar meet, and offers of help in ‘keeping an ear to the ground’ in the Community.

 

Heading back into the bullpen, Nick smiled to see Sean back in his office once more. Changing course, he headed towards Sean.

 

Knocking on the door-jam, Nick poked his head inside. “Got a minute?” he asked.

 

Glancing up, Sean smiled. “Of course,” he said, motioning Nick in.

 

Moving into the office, Nick smiled at Sean, but kept his distance, leaning against the side table. They were, after all, at work, and Nick was slightly concerned that, should he get too close to Sean, he’d end up kissing the other man. Not exactly the behaviour he thought he should engage in any time he wanted to – at work at any rate.

 

“Had some more visitors today,” Nick said, causing Sean to raise an eyebrow in query. “Members of the Community,” Nick explained. “We may have to do something about setting up a specific time to meet with them.”

 

“I had been thinking about that,” Sean agreed. “It would also be good to have a way of ranking the kinds of concerns they’re bringing up – perhaps even get some of the wesen officers involved in organising that. So that you can deal with anything pressing first, and leave the non-emergencies for a set time.”

 

“I still can’t believe this has all come just from saying we’re together,” Nick admitted, looking somewhat bemused.

 

Sean smiled. “A quirk of the wesen community,” he said.

 

“I’m not saying I mind,” Nick added quickly, holding up his hands, “just that I never would have imagined it having such a big impact.”

 

There was a soft laugh behind Nick and he turned to see Alexander standing there. “Bigger, perhaps, even than you are thinking right now,” he said, moving into the room.

 

“What do you mean?” Nick asked.

 

Alexander nodded to Sean. “I will be returning to the Council first thing tomorrow,” he said. “But already I have sent off my report. All those I have spoken to,” (and that explained where Alexander had been all day), “have had favourable reports of the two of you. The support you have within the wesen community is something I have never seen before.

 

“That said, while I can’t guarantee it based simply on my findings, I can say that the report I have sent the Council carries the recommendation that your positions within the community here be ratified.” Alexander gave a shake of his head. “What you have accomplished here is no small feat.” He turned to Nick. “Nor is the fact that you are not a typical grimm, but rather one who follows the old traditions.”

 

Trying to force the blush back from his face – he figured he’d already done far too much blushing that day – Nick gave a small shrug. “I just try to treat everyone fairly,” he said, before shooting a grin in Sean’s direction. “And get Sean’s help when I’m not sure about something.”

 

“Exactly,” Alexander replied. “On behalf of all those I have spoken to today, I thank you,” he glanced over at Sean, “both of you, for your commitment to the community and your willingness to make your relationship public in order to reassure and show a united front to the community.”

 

Nick opened his mouth to say that it had really been more about showing a united front against Sean’s royal family, before deciding to leave all the whys and hows alone and closing his mouth. It was enough to know that their relationship had been so well received. Did it really matter how or why it had started?

 

“Thank you, Alexander,” Sean said. “We appreciate you coming all this way.”

 

“To see a Royal and a Grimm working together?” Alexander asked with a laugh, “forging an alliance? You’re making history. Of course I’ve been happy to come see that.”

 

Nick laughed, suddenly reminded of something Sean had said to him – back when he’d first found out about Sean’s involvement in the wesen community. A quick glance at Sean, and the sparkling eyes that met his, showed that Sean was also thinking of that conversation.

 

They _were_ making history.

 

“The Council should reach a decision within the next week,” Alexander continued, “although I doubt it will take them quite that long. Either way, know that you most definitely have the support of the community.”

 

“Yeah,” Nick agreed, “they’ve been rather vocal in letting us know that.”

 

Alexander chuckled. “Well,” he said, “I just wanted to let you know I have finished my investigation.”

 

“A bit short, wasn’t it?” Nick asked. Alexander had, after all, only arrived the day before.

 

“Perhaps,” Alexander agreed, “but considering the overwhelming support for you, not to mention your own obvious relationship with each other – I see no reason to drag it out.” He smiled. “I was not all that surprised to hear who was involved when we received the petition, so never thought I would need to be here that long. Besides, I’ve no doubt you’ll both be glad to be left in peace,” he added. The look he gave them left no doubt in Nick’s mind that Alexander fully expected them to have sex that evening – once free of scrutiny.

 

He couldn’t deny that that was a scenario he hoped would play out.

 

*

 

With a promise from Sean that they’d work together with Captain Benson to organise a better way of dealing with concerns from the wesen community, and the promise of an evening – alone – together, Nick headed back to his desk feeling rather happy.

 

“I don’t want to know,” Hank commented as Nick took his seat, making a face at the broad smile his partner was sporting.

 

Laughing, Nick shook his head. “You sure?” he asked. “I could always just tell you a little bit?”

 

“No,” Hank replied, waving him off, “I got more than enough of an insight his morning.”

 

“What happened this morning?” Wu asked, pausing next to them with his usual impeccable timing.

 

Nick rolled his eyes. “Hank needs to learn how to knock,” he said simply.

 

Wu’s eyebrows rose in surprise, before he choked and laughed. “Well,” he said, “that’s certainly… interesting.”

 

“Believe me,” Hank replied, “you do _not_ want to know.”

 

“It wasn’t that bad!” Nick protested.

 

“Oh, I’m sure _you_ were having fun,” Hank snarked back.

 

“I mean,” Nick defended, “it’s not like you walked in on us having sex or something.”

 

“That could hardly have made it more intimate -”

 

“Okay! Time out!” Wu declared, waving his arms vigourously in the air. “There are some things I do _not_ need, or want, to know.”

 

“Well I do,” said a new voice.

 

Spinning, Nick stared at Juliette, standing nearby, with her friend Alicia by her side. “Juliette!” he gasped out.

 

She laughed. “Hi Nick,” she said, “what’s this I hear?”

 

“Uh -”

 

“You couldn’t have called to let me know you’d _finally_ gotten together with your Captain?” she continued, eyes sparkling with her laughter as she teased him. “After all, who’s the one who had to listen to all your comments about his eyes, and his height, and how you really, really, hoped he was impressed by your work?”

 

Groaning, Nick let his head thump down onto the table. Was it simply his day to embarrassed or something? “Please stop,” he muttered.

 

“Who had to sit and explain to you that being that fixated on another person generally indicates a crush? Or put up with all your pining after you admitted to said crush and fully embraced it? And who was even kind and supportive enough to offer a threesome should you so desire?”

 

“I’d really like to just sink into the floor right now,” Nick replied.

 

“Really?” Wu asked, “a threesome?” He eyed Juliette as though just seeing her for the first time.

 

Juliette shrugged. “It was before Nick and I broke up,” she said. “I figured seeing as he was so obviously enamoured with the Captain I’d offer a way for him to act on that attraction.”

 

“Okay, okay!” Nick declared, lifting his head as he turned to look at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first, okay?”

 

“A little better,” Juliette agreed. Then she turned serious. “He treats you right?”

 

Nick groaned. “You don’t need to do the overprotective friend thing,” he said. “And yes, he treats me – well, more than right.”

 

“Good,” Juliette replied. She wouldn’t be surprised to know that Nick had no idea of just how sappy a look he had on his face as he spoke of Renard, but it certainly helped to reassure her.

 

“Right,” said Nick, “now that you’ve thoroughly embarrassed me – was there a reason, other than that, for your visit?” He glanced curiously at Alicia as he spoke.

 

“Joe’s brother’s been hanging around,” Juliette replied immediately. Alicia nodded, wringing her hands together. Nick frowned.

 

“Has he said anything to you?” he asked.

 

“Not yet,” Alicia replied, “at least, not directly. But there’s been a couple of letters left – saying stuff like that I’m ungrateful and should come crawling back.” She grimaced, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ sort of way. “Mostly he just kind of sits in his truck and stares at the apartment. Constantly.”

 

“Which is really kind of creepy,” Juliette added, “so we thought we’d come see you.”

 

“Hang on,” said Hank, “Joe’s the abusive ex, right?”

 

“Right,” Alicia agreed. “He hasn’t been back since Nick spoke to him -”

 

“I’m not sure it was so much my speaking to him as the way you and Juliette took him out,” Nick replied. Both women gave him fondly amused looks.

 

“So, do you think you could come, have a chat to him?” Juliette asked.

 

“Please,” Alicia added

 

“Sure,” Nick replied, pushing himself to his feet. “Let me just,” he waved in the direction of Sean’s office.

 

Hank grinned. “He needs to go kiss his boyfriend goodbye,” he teased softly, so that only they could hear.

 

Reaching out, Nick whacked him gently on the back of his head as he passed. Hank’s laughter followed him into the office.

 

*

 

Glancing up, Sean smiled to see Nick entering his office once more. “Nick,” he said.

 

“Hey,” Nick replied. “Juliette and Alicia are here – apparently Alicia’s ex’s brother has been hanging around trying to intimidate them. Asked if I’d go have a chat with him.”

 

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Alicia as in Juliette’s friend from college who she’s currently sharing an apartment with?” he asked. Nick nodded. “Her ex was a klaustreich?” Nick nodded again. “You planning to go as a cop or a grimm?”

 

Nick paused, considering. “What do you think?” he asked.

 

“The acceptance of the wesen community has given you more leeway in acting as a grimm,” Sean said. “Not that you were hindered in any way before, but more that you can now count on their support.” He paused. “I think you should go as both a cop and a grimm,” he said. “The community is well aware of your status as both, just as they are aware of my status – both as a Captain and a royal. It doesn’t always have to be either/or. As a cop you act with the authority given to you as a Detective, supported by your Captain. As a grimm, you act with the authority given to you by the wesen community and their recognition of you as their arbitrator.”

 

“And the authority given to me by their Prince,” Nick added, smiling at Sean.

 

Sean nodded.

 

“Right,” Nick said. “I’m off to go talk to a klaustreich, then.”

 

“Take Hank with you,” Sean said. “He can can back you both as a cop and a grimm if need be.”

 

Nick nodded.

 

He turned to go before paused, turning back to Sean. “I’ll see you later?” he asked.

 

“Of course,” Sean replied.

 

Nick wanted to kiss him goodbye, just as Hank had insinuated, but wasn’t entirely sure that was proper professional behaviour, so he didn’t.

 

*

 

“I’m just saying,” Wu said, “if you’re not entirely opposed to considering getting together with a lonely cop who has no life – just a cat – then you might want to consider looking in this direction.”

 

Nick blinked at Wu’s words, before deciding he didn’t want to know (although he guessed it had something to do with the threesome comment).

 

Juliette laughed. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” she said.

 

And, well, okay, so Nick stopped ignoring it long enough to add - “Even if she does, doesn’t mean you’ll be getting a threesome,” he said.

 

Wu sputtered as he turned to face the detective. Nick grinned.

 

“Oh?” Hank asked.

 

“’Course not,” Nick said, “after all, there’s no way I’m sharing Sean.”

 

*

 

“How’d you get here?” Nick asked, noticing that he couldn’t spot either Juliette or Alicia’s cars in the police carpark.

 

“Walked down from the clinic,” Juliette replied, “my car’s in the shop again.”

 

Nick grimaced. “Do you want me to look at it?” he asked.

 

“By which he means, ‘do you want him to ask one of his many friends who are _much_ better at mechanics than he is to look at it’?” Hank interjected.

 

Juliette laughed. “It’s fine,” she said, “it’ll get fixed up and be good as new in no time.”

 

“I snuck out the back,” Alicia admitted when Nick glanced at her, giving a small shrug. “I didn’t exactly want Mitch to know I was leaving and have him follow me.”

 

Nick frowned, but nodded, even more concerned by this Mitch than he had been before. “Come on, then,” he said, motioning them towards his car. He shot Hank a look, who nodded, moving to get into his own car. If they did have to take Mitch in, they didn’t want him in the same car as those he’d been harassing.

 

*

 

“I’m really pleased for you, you know,” Juliette said as Nick pulled out of the carpark. He glanced over at her.

 

“Thanks,” he said.

 

She grinned. “At least now I won’t have to listen to you pining after him.”

 

Nick scowled. “I didn’t _pine_ ,” he said.

 

“Uh huh.” She was clearly disbelieving of him.

 

Nick sighed, before remembering something that he’d been wanting to get an answer for for a while.

 

“You remember that time I went out with Monroe and Rosalee to a fair, and bought a tie?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Juliette agreed. The lilt to her tone indicating her humour at his question.

 

“Why does everyone keep giving me weird looks about the tie?”

 

Alicia made a choked sound behind him. Nick glanced in the rear-view mirror, but she was studiously looking away out the window.

 

“Monroe still laughs at me about it,” Nick continued, “Viktor basically looked liked he wanted to combust when he saw me wearing it, and even Sean was kind of fondly indulgent about it.” He cast a quick glance at Juliette. “What is it they all seem to see that I don’t?”

 

Juliette laughed lightly. “Nick,” she said, “what colour is the tie?”

 

He shrugged, turning the corner. “Green. With kind of a grey tinge to it.”

 

“Uh-huh, and what colour are Captain Renard’s eyes?”

 

“Green, with kind of a grey...” Nick’s voice trailed off as he realised what everyone else had been seeing – he’d bought a tie the exact same shade as Sean’s eyes (well, as much as a piece of fabric could much the colours in Sean’s expressive eyes, anyway).

 

He’d worn a tie the exact same colour as Sean’s eyes to dinner with Sean’s royal family – a silent, but prominent, declaration of his allegiance. That he was with Sean. He groaned.

 

Leaning over, Juliette patted Nick gently on the arm. “Don’t worry about it too much,” she said.

 

“I just,” said Nick, shaking his head, “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

 

*

 

Turning into Juliette and Alicia’s street, Nick immediately noted the old truck sitting opposite their apartment building. There was a man inside, a few years younger than Joe had been. He guessed this was Mitch.

 

“He’s always there, like that,” Juliette said, glaring at the man.

 

“Well,” said Nick, “loitering isn’t great. And intimidation isn’t either.” He pulled up outside the apartment. “Stay in the car,” he said.

 

“No way,” Juliette replied, already pushing the door open. “I want him to know we won’t stand for this.”

 

Nick shot her a glance, but Alicia was already nodding, bolstered by her friend’s determination. Nick sighed.

 

“At least stay back a bit,” he said. “I don’t want either of you getting hurt if this turns ugly.”

 

Hank pulled up behind the truck, shooting Nick a look as he turned off the engine. Nick nodded, starting across the street as Hank stepped out of the other car.

 

Hank rapped on the truck’s driver-side window. Glancing at them, the man inside wound it down.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked.

 

“Actually,” Hank replied, “we were wondering if we could help you?”

 

Mitch frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked, “I’m perfectly fine.” He smiled, but there was nothing happy or nice about it. In fact, it looked more like a cat baring it’s teeth.

 

Nick gave him a tight smile in return. “Really?” he asked. “Want to tell us why you’ve been hanging around out here for a number of days, then?”

 

Mitch shrugged. “It’s a free country,” he said.

 

“Loitering and intimidation are still crimes,” Hank replied.

 

Mitch scoffed. “Who said anything about intimidation?” he asked. He twisted his neck, and for a moment Nick though he was going to woge, but he didn’t.

 

“You sent me those letters!” Alicia snapped.

 

Snarling, Mitch turned to face her, woge rippling across his features. “Careful vixen,” he snapped, “I’d watch my tone if I were you.”

 

Nick simply cleared his throat, causing Mitch to turn to face him. Mitch froze.

 

“Grimm!” he hissed.

 

“Oh,” said Alicia in fake surprise, “didn’t you know? Here in Portland we have our very own grimm.” She smiled tightly at him.

 

“What are you talking about?” Mitch snarled. “Grimms are everyone’s enemy.” He glanced between Hank and Nick, obviously trying to consider whether he could get out of the truck and attack them easily enough or not.

 

“Not this one,” Alicia replied. “He’s been accepted by the Community. He’s _our_ arbitrator.”

 

“And he’s dating the Prince,” Juliette added.

 

Mitch’s face spasmed as it tried to decide between continuing to hiss and snarl, and the fear that came at such a pronouncement. “You’re a cop,” he told Nick, eyes narrowing. “You can’t do anything to me.”

 

Nick smiled slowly. “Did you know,” he asked, “the Prince, my chosen, is a police Captain?”

 

With a snarl, Mitch launched himself out of the truck, seemingly deciding to take action rather than wait and see what happened.

 

Side-stepping out of his way, Nick snapped his hand out, grabbing tight to Mitch’s shoulder and using his own momentum to swing Mitch around and up against the truck.

 

Mitch hissed, bucking against Nick’s hold, but unable to do much. His claws flexed against the paint of the truck, scraping new lines into it. Nick held him firm, pressed up against the rusting metal.

 

“You see, Mitch,” he said conversationally, “you’re right. I am a cop. As a cop, it’s my job to protect the people of Portland – from such things as intimidation, harassment and invasion of privacy.” He wrenched Mitch’s arm up behind his back, using it to hold him against the truck. “I’m also a grimm. As a grimm, I’m accepted by the Community here in Portland, and have been asked to act as their Arbitrator. So it’s my job to protect all wesen from those who would do them harm. Including other wesen.” Reaching over, he accepted the handcuffs from Hank.

 

“Which means you’ve just managed to attack both a cop and a grimm.” Snapping the cuffs onto Mitch’s wrists, Nick stepped back, letting him up from the side of the truck, but keeping a firm grip on his arm. “Not exactly the smartest move you could have made.”

 

Nick’s phone rang.

 

“Here,” Hank said, taking Mitch from Nick as the grimm fished his phone from his pocket.

 

“Burkhardt,” he said.

 

Then he froze.

 

Frowning, Hank glanced up at him, worry creeping into his expression. “Nick?” he asked.

 

Juliette bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. Something was wrong.

 

Alicia took a step back, taking a startled breath as her face paled, eyes wide as they stared at Nick.

 

Mitch whimpered, hunching down as though trying to get away from the grimm.

 

When Nick glanced up, his eyes were completely black – even Hank and Juliette could see it. So dark and solid they could see themselves in them. Hank shuddered, wondering if that was what the wesen usually saw when seeing Nick as a grimm.

 

A palpable sense of oppressive danger wrapped around them, flowing out from Nick as though his aura had suddenly turned heavy and dark.

 

“Nick?” Hank repeated.

 

Nick slowly turned to look at him. “Someone’s attacked Sean,” he said.

 

Juliette drew her breath in sharply. Hank gave a sharp nod. “I’ve got him,” he said, indicating Mitch. “Go.”

 

But Nick was already moving, jogging back across the road with a single-minded focus. He jumped into the car, peeling away from the curb before the door had fully finished closing.

 

All he could think was that he had to get to Sean. Immediately.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to do a two-parter chapter again, I really wasn't. But, as always, it was getting longer, and then it was also taking a while to get out, so I decided to give you this bit first, with the next part to come. 
> 
> As always, massive thanks for your kind comments and encouragement, and if you want to talk grimm or whatever, you can find me on tumblr under the same username (tolieawake).


	11. Day Seven - part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick is NOT happy.  
> Sean is BAMF.  
> And there is fluff. So much fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, my apologies for the lateness of this chapter - among other things I managed to get the flu which put a rather big spanner in the writing plans. 
> 
> Secondly, the end of this chapter contains a fair amount of fluffy making-out. I don't believe it warrants any higher of a rating than the current one, but am warning for it here as it's a bit more detailed than usual.

Bud paused in his work, face quivering, as he felt it – like a kind of black cloud spreading towards him. Dropping his tools, he spun in a circle, woge breaking out as a trickle of fear ran down his spine.

 

*

 

Carly paused, ball in her hands, breath turning sharp. There was an edge to the air. Like the smell of something tangy and dangerous. Around her, the other wesen students also all came to a halt, wide eyes staring between each other. Carly swallowed.

 

*

 

Monroe was heading back into the main room of the Spice Shop when he felt it.

 

“I’m just saying, there’s really no...” his voice trailed off and he glanced up towards the front windows of the shop, half expecting the world outside to be suddenly dim and overcast, heavy stormclouds rolling in overhead. But the sun continued to shine down.

 

Shivering, Rosalee turned to face him. “Monroe,” she said.

 

“That’s...” Giving himself a shake, Monroe placed the herbs he’d retrieved from the back on the front counter. “Should we warn Nick?” he asked. “What am I saying? Of course we should warn Nick!”

 

The front door banged open. Bud hurried inside, wringing his hands, gaze jerking around about him anxiously.

 

“Oh good,” he said. “You’re here.”

 

“You can feel it, too,” Rosalee said.

 

“Me? _Everyone_ can feel it!” Bud replied. He gave a shudder.

 

“We need to warn Nick,” Monroe repeated.

 

“Warn him?” Bud asked. He shook his head. “They’re saying it _is_ him.”

 

Monroe and Rosalee shared a glance. Bud swallowed.

 

“They’re saying someone attacked the Prince.”

 

As one, the three turned and headed for shop’s exit. There was somewhere they needed to be.

 

*

 

Wu frowned, watching as first one, then another officer shuddered, gazes turning towards the windows. He noted, detachedly, that it wasn’t everyone. Just some. People he’d known for years. Shifting in place as though something terrible was coming towards them.

 

Moving over to the window, he couldn’t see anything. The sun shone brilliantly down, people bustled around going about their daily lives, the world moved on.

 

He could still feel the panic of earlier pounding away within him, but he’d managed to push it aside – make it somehow _less,_ or rather, _distant_ , so that he could do his job.

 

Across the room, Captain Benson entered the bullpen at a fast clip. His face was drawn tight, brows furrowed into a harsh scowl. He was not happy.

 

Wu didn’t blame him. None of them were particularly happy – their Captain had been attacked, in their own precinct no less.

 

He paused, thoughts spinning, as he turned to Franco. “Has anyone called Nick?” he asked.

 

Officer Griegg, passing them, turned towards Wu in shock. “Can’t you tell?” he asked, giving a shudder, “he’s on his way.”

 

Wu frowned – it was almost as though… but no, that couldn’t be right. Could it?

 

He stared around the room, at those who shifted nervously, eyes darting between the windows and the door. What was it they were picking up on that he wasn’t?

 

*

 

Lights flashing, Nick raced towards the precinct. He had never felt such a laser focus before. Everything else fell away from him apart from his need to get to Sean. To make sure Sean was okay. And to make sure that whoever had dared to attack his chosen knew never to do so again.

 

Spinning the wheel, he shot the car across three lanes of traffic and around a corner, foot pressing down against the accelerator. He was so close.

 

Breathing deep, he let the cool afternoon air wash over his tongue. He felt both enraged and calm at the same time. In control in a way he had never felt before – oh, he’d gotten close, when acting as a grimm, using his grimm abilities, confident in what he could do. But this was something more.

 

Around him, heads raised, wesen turning to watch as their grimm tore past them, the weight of his presence pressing down on all around.

 

*

 

“He’s here,” Benson said, head turning.

 

Startled, Wu stared at the Captain. What did he mean? He couldn’t possibly -

 

“Sean!” Nick burst through the doors of the bullpen at a dead run. His eyes were wide and dark, impossibly black – so black that for a moment Wu thought he could see himself in them – and yet focused.

 

His gaze swept around the room as he ran – Wu noticed that a number of officers, those he’d seen shifting earlier, drew back from Nick’s gaze – then Nick was in the office.

 

He pushed his way through the doorway, ignoring Wu and Franco where they stood towards the back of the room, Benson where he was standing by Renard, and even the Doc who’d come to check the Captain over.

 

Pushing past them all, Nick reached Sean, dropping to his knees on the floor by Sean’s chair as he reached out for him.

 

“Sean,” he said. As though someone had flipped a switch, Wu watched officers across the floor relax.

 

“Hey,” Sean replied, hands moving to grab Nick’s, holding them. “I’m fine,” he said.

 

Nick breathed deep, drawing in a heaving breath as his eyes raked over the figure of his chosen. Sean’s shirtsleeves were pushed up to his elbows, his tie slightly loosened. There were a couple of faint bruises forming on his knuckles. But that was it.

 

There was no blood. No major bruising. So scrapes or cuts.

 

Letting his breath out, Nick leant his head forward until his forehead pressed against Sean’s chest, just listening to his heartbeat.

 

“You’re all right,” he said.

 

“Yes,” Sean agreed. “I’m all right.”

 

Wu shifted uncomfortably, not entirely sure that this was something he wanted to, or should be, witnessing. It seemed entirely too intimate.

 

Sean let go of Nick’s hands – which immediately dropped to grasp hold of Sean’s thighs – to place his own hands in Nick’s hair. Stroking his fingers through the grimm’s short strands, Sean let himself simply hold Nick for a moment.

 

Taking a deep breath, Nick sat up, pulling back just enough to meet Sean’s eyes. “What happened?” he asked.

 

“I’m fine,” Sean said.

 

Nick scowled. “What happened?” he repeated.

 

Wu noticed Benson shifting as though slightly uncomfortable.

 

Sean sighed, then nodded towards the back of the room – where Wu and Franco were standing, the three perps between them. Following the Captain’s gaze, Nick pushed himself to his feet, taking a step towards them.

 

His eyes – those bright spots of blue-grey colour in his face – bled black. Wu swallowed, resisting the urge to step out of Nick’s way. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on (hadn’t been – not since the attack), but somehow, he realised, Nick was involved in it all.

 

Behind Wu, the three perps whimpered – actually whimpered. His head whipped around to stare at them in surprise. Three large, tough, well, whatever-they-were (he wasn’t entirely sure just _what_ he’d seen), were whimpering at the sight of Detective Nick Burkhardt.

 

Not that Wu wasn’t absolutely sure that Nick could hold his own in a fight, or was a great detective and cop – but he generally didn’t have all that much of an intimidating presence – especially not when compared to such over-large specimens as these perps (admittedly, that often worked in Nick’s favour as he was underestimated, but it didn’t explain the _whimpering_ _)_.

 

A glance back at Nick, however, and Wu decided that he wouldn’t mind whimpering himself. There was something about that solid black gaze, something in the air around Nick, as though his very presence was pushing forward ahead of him, thick and heavy and full of threat, that made Wu want to run.

 

“Grimm,” one of the perps whined. And there was that word again – Wu kept hearing it in relation to Nick, and he was sure there had to be a better explanation than the one Nick had given him. How would the perps know such a nickname for the detective?

 

Nick paused, crossing his arms as he scowled at them. “You are very, _very_ , lucky,” he said.

 

The perps whimpered once more, huddling together. Wu saw their skin ripple, (which was crazy, but, after what he’d seen earlier, not so crazy that he was simply going to dismiss it).

 

“Nick,” Captain Renard called.

 

Nick turned instantly. As he did so, the pressure in the room dropped suddenly, and Wu felt like he could breath freely again.

 

“Sean,” Nick replied, moving back towards the Captain.

 

“I’m fine,” Sean repeated, reaching out to grab Nick’s hand. Nick shot a scowl in the perps’ direction, a flash of heavy _pressure-danger-threat_ washing over them with that glance, before focusing all his attention on Renard.

 

“What happened?” he asked once more.

 

Sean sighed. “It appears that Viktor had one last card to play,” he said. Before giving a rueful smile. “Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work.”

 

Nick frowned. “That,” he said, “is not an explanation.”

 

“And it doesn’t half cover it,” Wu added, before realising that perhaps he didn’t actually want Nick’s attention on him – not when the detective was this scary.

 

“Wu?” Nick asked.

 

Wu shook his head. “These three came in to see the Captain,” he explained, “said something about needing to bring a message from City Hall. They seemed legit so they were let in.” He shrugged. “We’re not sure exactly what happened,” he cast a glance at Renard, “but next thing we know, there’s a crash from the office.”

 

“The Captain threw one of them right through the window!” Franco exclaimed, pride in his Captain shining through.

 

Nick smirked. “Good,” he said.

 

Wu coughed. “We ran in to see what was happening, of course,” he said.

 

“I stopped to cuff the guy,” Franco added, nodding to the perp on the right.

 

“Then...” Wu’s voice trailed off as he tried to think of a way to describe what he’d seen when he entered the office that wouldn’t make him sound crazy.

 

The Captain had been standing in front of his desk, drawn up to his full height, gaze shooting fire at the other two perps. The other two perps who hadn’t even looked human. There’d been fur on their faces. Claws on their hands. Sharp teeth in their mouths. They’d rushed the Captain, while Wu had been frozen in shock – before his training took over and he ran forward with a shout, gun drawn.

 

But Renard hadn’t flinched. He’d met them easily, fists flying, and knocking both down onto their asses on the floor. Oh, he’d had to duck a few swipes of those claws, and side-step a lunge that Wu was sure was an attempt by one to get his teeth around the Captain’s throat. But Wu had been forcibly reminded that his Captain wasn’t just a paper-pusher. Renard had worked his way up through the ranks and gotten where he was by being extremely good at his job.

 

As he’d forcefully reminded those three perps.

 

Knocked to the ground, the remaining two had shifted back into human form, and Wu had cuffed them, all the while reeling – in a distant corner of his mind where it was safe to do so – from what he’d seen.

 

But how to explain any of that?

 

“They attacked me,” Renard explained. “I was able to subdue them and Sergeant Wu cuffed them.”

 

“Which was when I rang you,” Franco explained to Nick. “The perps were down, the others were calling the doc,” he nodded towards the doctor Nick had been ignoring, “and reading them their rights, and I figured you’d want to know.”

 

“Yes,” Nick agreed, “I do.” His gaze narrowed on the three cuffed men, who huddled together, slumping down as though trying to make themselves smaller.

 

“I suggest,” Nick continued, black gaze fixed on them and that feeling of heavy, _dangerous_ , pressure filling the room, “that you cooperate fully. Right now, you’re very, very lucky that you were taken down and put in custody.”

 

Wu’s eyes widened as he heard what Nick wasn’t exactly, but kind of was, saying.

 

“It means,” Nick said, “that I don’t need to go chasing after you.” All three swallowed – hard. Nick smiled, all teeth and danger. “I don’t think you’d want me to chase after you,” he said, “so you better hope you stay in custody.” Three frantically nodding heads were all he got in reply.

 

“Wu, Franco,” Captain Renard called. “Please escort these gentlemen down to the holding cells.”

 

“I’ll take their statements,” Captain Benson said, moving forward.

 

There was a lingering sense of unease in the room, but with Nick’s attention once more focused on Renard, Wu felt that tension easing.

 

With a nod, he followed his Captain’s orders.

 

*

 

As soon as the others had left the office, Nick drew himself back towards Sean using their still clasped hands. Sinking to his knees once more, Nick pressed Sean’s hand to his chest.

 

“You scared me,” he said.

 

Sean’s eyes softened, looking down at the grimm, and he reached out, giving Nick’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m fine,” he said.

 

Nick scowled. “You were attacked,” he replied.

 

“Yes,” Sean agreed easily. “But I was unharmed -” Nick’s eyes flicked to Sean’s bruised knuckles, making the Captain resist the urge to roll his eyes, “- and the situation has been dealt with,” Sean finished.

 

Pressing his lips together, Nick shook his head, gaze darkening as he considered the attack on his chosen. Sean’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

 

“Nick,” Sean said, “you need to relax. I’m fine, and you’re putting everyone on edge.”

 

Nick glanced up at him with a confused expression on his face. He wasn’t sure what Sean was referring to. Sure, he’d wanted to make sure his chosen’s attackers knew that things would not be pretty should they attempt anything else, and he’d wanted to intimidate them, for once thankful for the reputation of the grimms. But he hadn’t been trying to intimidate anyone else.

 

Sean chuckled lightly at his expression. “You’re not even aware of it, are you?” he asked fondly. Nick’s quizzical expression answered that for him.

 

Behind them, the doctor cleared his throat nervously.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, eyes darting anxiously between the two, hands twisting before him.

 

Nick’s attention snapped to the other man. “You’re the doctor,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. The man nodded, drawing back slightly. “How is he?” Nick asked, gesturing towards Sean.

 

Indulgently, Sean reached out, grasping hold of his grimm’s hand and tugging him gently back to stand beside his chair – he didn’t need Nick scaring away the poor doctor.

 

“Uh, well, you see,” the doctor began, swallowing nervously as his eyes darted to Sean before flicking back to Nick. He shuddered, seconds away from a woge.

 

“Is he hurt?” Nick demanded.

 

Drawing a deep breath, the doctor straightened, pulling his professional persona around himself like a shield. “There is some bruising on his knuckles,” he said, “from the hits he landed to the verrat.”

 

Nick’s eyes narrowed as he realised the doctor must be wesen. The tightening of Sean’s hand on his drew him back from demanding answers in that direction.

 

“And?” he asked.

 

“That is all,” the doctor replied. “The Prince suffered no injuries from the attack and is perfectly healthy.”

 

Nick nodded, but the way his eyes drifted back to Sean suggested that he wouldn’t be fully satisfied with that diagnosis until he’d had a chance to check Sean over for himself.

 

“Thank you for checking up on him,” Nick said, the doctor already dismissed from his mind.

 

Sean gave the poor man a gentle smile. “Thank you, George,” he said. “Please assure everyone else that I am fine.”

 

With a nod, the doctor left.

 

Hearing the door click behind him, Nick sighed, slumping forwards until he was bent over, forehead resting against Sean’s.

 

“You really worried me,” he repeated.

 

Sean hummed lightly. “Well,” he said, aiming for humour, “now you know how I feel.”

 

Nick drew back to scowl at him, not impressed by that response.

 

Sean gave into the impulse to roll his eyes, startling the grimm enough to take a step back. “Perhaps next time I show some concern for your well being,” Sean stated, “you’ll remember how you are feeling right now and that that is how I feel for you.”

 

Nick’s eyes softened as he sank to his knees before Sean, hands holding both of Sean’s as he draped himself forward over his chosen’s lap. Sean’s knees dug into his stomache, but he ignored it, far more interested in pressing his head against Sean’s chest, in listening to Sean’s heartbeat and assuring himself that his chosen was alive.

 

Breathing deeply, Nick focused on that heartbeat, letting the sound wash over him as he finally felt the horrible tightness that had gripped his chest since hearing that Sean had been attacked begin to ease.

 

There was a knock on the door, but Nick didn’t move. Part of his mind was insisting that he should – that it was unprofessional for him to be seen in such a position – but a much larger part simply couldn’t care. He wasn’t sure he could remove himself from Sean unless there was a direct threat to the other man.

 

It was a new and interesting feeling, yet one that he wasn’t entirely sure was that unexpected. Trust him to fall in love with the man he was fake-dating.

 

*

 

Looking up at the door, Sean gave Nick’s hands a reassuring squeeze, before realising that the grimm was not going to move.

 

“Come,” he called.

 

The door opened, and Hank stepped inside, before quickly shutting the door behind him.

 

“Captain,” Hank said, the relief audible in his voice. Sean smiled up at him.

 

“Hank,” he said. Nick shifted slightly, but made no move to get up.

 

Hank glanced back towards the bullpen. “I got voted to come check up on you two,” he said, a wry twist to his lips.

 

Sean chuckled lightly.

 

Hank grinned. “I think they thought Nick would be less likely to gut me than he would anyone else,” Hank continued. “I gotta say, I’ve never seen them so ruffled before.” His eyes conveyed just what he wasn’t spelling out – that the wesen officers were still on edge.

 

Sean sighed. “Nick’s entrance was rather dramatic,” he admitted.

 

Hank nodded. “Yeah,” he said, giving a shudder. “I’ve been around him plenty when he’s doing his grimm thing, but I’ve never seen his eyes do that before.”

 

Sean glanced at him sharply. “You saw his eyes?” he asked.

 

Hank nodded. “So did Wu,” he said.

 

“That,” Sean said, “and I’m fairly sure Wu also saw some things he can’t explain when he came to aid me.”

 

Hank’s eyebrows rose as he realised what the Captain was referring to. “Uh, okay,” he said. “How are we going to deal with that?”

 

Sean glanced down at Nick, before looking back at the detective. Hank sighed.

 

“You want me to talk to Wu?” he asked.

 

“It would be appreciated,” Sean said. “Captain Benson can also aid you.”

 

“Benson?”

 

“Is a steinadler,” Sean replied. “Nick didn’t tell you?”

 

Hank shrugged. “Unless I ask or it’s important to a case, no, Nick generally doesn’t bother to tell me.”

 

Smiling fondly down at his chosen, Sean nodded.

 

There was the sound of running footsteps, and both men turned to look at the door, which was flung open.

 

“Nick!” Monroe exclaimed, skidding to a halt as he saw the grimm kneeling before the Prince. “Sean!”

 

“You can’t go in there,” Bud hissed, hands waving frantically, obviously continuing on a previous conversation, “he’s the _Prince!_ ”

 

“Sean,” Rosalee said, moving past Monroe. “Are you all right?”

 

“I’m fine,” Sean said, wondering just how many times he was going to have to repeat that phrase.

 

“Nick?” Rosalee asked.

 

Nick grunted in reply.

 

“Dude!” exclaimed Monroe, moving forward, “you freaked everyone out!”

 

Nick huffed, Sean’s muscles tensing beneath his breath. Grinning, he did it again. Sean’s hands tightened on his.

 

“Rosalee,” he called – and wasn’t that shiver of Sean’s just fascinating? - “can you make sure he’s okay?” Nick deliberately pressed his lips against Sean’s chest as he spoke, enjoying the ripple of muscles beneath them.

 

“I’m fine,” Sean repeated, exasperation starting to creep into his voice.

 

“Humour me?” Nick asked, his words more kisses against the chest beneath him than anything else.

 

“You’ll need to sit up for me to do that,” Rosalee replied, a light lilt to her voice that suggested her amusement at the situation.

 

With a groan, Nick slowly pushed himself up onto his knees, his hands still clasped tightly in Sean’s. He didn’t want to move any further away from the other man, but he also wanted to make sure that Sean really was all right. It was nothing against the doctor of before, but he didn’t know the doctor, whereas he did know Rosalee.

 

“You do know I’m not a doctor, right?” Rosalee asked as she approached – as though in answer to Nick’s thoughts.

 

“I’ve already been checked out by a doctor,” Sean said, gently tugging Nick around to his side, so that Rosalee could step up to him. He smiled up at her. “Just some bruised knuckles, nothing more,” he said.

 

“Bruised knuckles?” Bud muttered worriedly.

 

Hank grinned. “Apparently our Captain threw one of the perps through the window,” he said, nodding towards the twisted blinds and smashed glass to the side of the office. Outside, those in the bullpen were studiously not looking in their direction.

 

“Hmmm,” Rosalee agreed, tapped Nick’s wrists to get him to turn his hands so that she could examine Sean’s knuckles. “I have some cream that will help with those bruises,” she said. “But I doubt you truly need it.”

 

“Can you -” Nick began.

 

Monroe cut in. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “We’ll bring you the cream. We bringing it here, or to your place?” There was a fondly indulgent look on his face, as though he considered Nick to be acting like a complete idiot, but an adorable one.

 

It was fairly reminiscent of the early days of their acquaintance, and Nick pouted at him.

 

There was a knock on the open door.

 

*

 

Mind still reeling from what he had seen – _had_ he really seen it? Or was his mind playing tricks on him? - Wu returned from securing the perps.

 

The bullpen was a hive of subdued activity that had him rolling his eyes. Really, everyone was acting as though they’d somehow managed to avert the apocalypse. And, while he was sure that Burkhardt could certainly do some damage if he wished it, Wu doubted the situation was really on that level.

 

The nervous, darting glances towards the Captain’s office let Wu know that Renard had yet to step outside and reassure everyone.

 

Shaking his head with a sigh, Wu wondered, again, just why it was always his job to wrangle both the Captain and Detective Burkhardt.

 

Turning on his heel, he strode towards the office, reaching out to knock on the doorframe.

 

*

 

The scene he walked into had Wu pausing for a moment. Renard was sitting in his chair, pulled around beside his desk. Nick knelt at his side, holding tight to the Captain’s hands. Griffin was standing nearby, looking both amused and tolerant.

 

Some of Nick’s friends – weird people, in Wu’s opinion, but really, he wasn’t one to judge – were also there. The shorter man was wringing his hands together anxiously, and looked ready to run away. The woman was giving Nick a look that suggested she both wanted to coddle him and slap him one. The taller man was just grinning at Nick.

 

“Right,” said Wu, drawing all attention to himself. “The perps have been booked and secured, and Captain Benson is personally overseeing things there.” He glanced around the room. “We’ll need to get someone in to fix the window here,” he commented thoughtfully.

 

Another glance showed that Burkhardt obviously had no intention of moving from where he had plastered himself to the Captain’s side.

 

Wu sighed.

 

“Should I clear your schedule?” he asked.

 

Renard blinked at him. Nick’s gaze shot around.

 

“Yes,” the detective said.

 

Renard’s eyebrow raised in Nick’s direction at that, but the fond look on his face meant that it lost a lot of it’s impact. “I have -” he began.

 

“Nothing that can’t be put off,” Nick cut in, with a firm glance. “You were _attacked_. That means you get to take the afternoon off.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

Everyone froze at Nick’s statement, Wu wanting (but refraining) to gape at the detective in shock. That wasn’t what he had expected. But all of Burkhardt’s attention was focused on the Captain, their gazes locked as Nick spoke.

 

“I’m not,” Nick repeated, swallowing hard. “And I would really appreciate being able to take you home and make sure you’re okay.” There was something in his eyes that Wu couldn’t read properly, but it seemed the Captain could as his expression softened, affection washing over his face as he stared at Nick, along with something that Wu almost thought was anticipation.

 

“I really am fine,” Renard repeated.

 

“Please,” Nick said.

 

And that was that. Captain Renard, who could strike fear into anyone from the newest patrol officer to the actual Mayor, caved.

 

“All right,” he said, giving a nod. “We’ll go home.”

 

The smile he got in return seemed to lighten the room. Wu almost thought he could hear officers out in the bullpen sighing in relief.

 

“Excellent,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll clear the rest of your day.” He gave a nod, turning to leave before hesitating. He wanted to ask about what he’d seen – what he couldn’t possibly have seen, but had. But didn’t want to bring his own problems into what was obviously an already rather emotionally charged situation for the two men.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Captain share a glance with Griffin.

 

“Come on,” Hank said, giving Wu a slap on the shoulder, “once you’ve cleared the Captain’s schedule, you and I will get a drink.”

 

Wu wanted to protest – if the Captain was leaving early than they needed to make sure there was at least one competent person still at the station – but suspected Hank's offer included an explanation, and there was no way he was going to pass that up.

 

Nodding, he allowed himself to be drawn out of the room.

 

*

 

"Well," said Monroe, clapping his hands together, "guess that's our cue to leave, too," he said, glancing around.

 

Looking up at him, Nick smiled. "Thank you," he said, including Rosalee and Bud in his look, "for coming. It means a lot."

 

Monroe shrugged self-consciously, rubbing one hand over the back of his head. "Well," he said, "we knew there must be something up for you to react like that," he said.

 

Nick frowned. "What do you mean?"

 

Monroe gaped at him."You didn't notice?" he demanded. "You don't know?"

 

"He doesn't," Sean's voice was fond as he answered the blutbad.

 

"Know what?" Nick asked.

 

Rosalee shook her head with a smile. "You were grimming so hard I wouldn't be surprised if all of Portland felt it," she said.

 

Bud nodded, giving a shudder. "It was like something terrible was about to happen," he said, "a massive storm, or something. Pressure and danger and threat."

 

"I didn't mean -" Nick began, shaking his head.

 

"Oh no, man, we know that," Monroe replied, cutting him off. "Doesn't mean we didn't feel it." He grinned. "Besides, it's good, you know? Shows everyone that you're serious about this," he gestured towards Sean and Nick. "And I doubt you're gonna have much trouble from anyone for a while," he added.

 

"So, it's a good thing?" Nick asked.

 

Sean chuckled. "Not something we'd want to be repeating anytime soon if we can help it," he said, "but yes, it's a good thing. Any doubt there may have been lingering about our relationship, or about your abilities as a grimm, will be well and truly put to rest now."

 

Pushing himself to his feet, Sean tugged Nick up by his grip on his hands. "Now, didn't you want to head home?" he asked.

 

"I did," Nick agreed, stepping further into Sean's space, so that they were pressed up against each other.

 

"And, we're leaving," Monroe said, starting to back towards the door. Rosalee rolled her eyes at him, turning back to Nick.

 

"Do you need a lift home?" she asked.

 

Nick glanced at Sean, before shaking his head. "No," he said, "we should be fine."

 

"All right," she agreed. "Take care."

 

"Rosalee," Sean called, pausing her in the doorway. "Please assure everyone that everything is okay."

 

She nodded, smiling over her shoulder at them. "Of course," she agreed.

 

*

 

Left alone in the office, Nick took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Sean, pressing them together all along their fronts, and breathing in the scent of the other man.

 

Sean let him, arms coming up to wrap around Nick for a moment, before he gently pushed him back. "Come on," he said, "or we'll never make it home."

 

Then he frowned.

 

"What?" Nick asked.

  
Sean sighed. "My mother is going to be unbearable," he said, making a face as he began picturing her fussing over him while silmultaneously teasing Nick over his reaction.

 

"Uh," Nick began, causing Sean to frown at him in confusion. "Maybe not," Nick continued. "She stopped by at lunch, asked for the keys to the apartment." One of Sean's eyebrows rose as a blush spread over Nick's cheeks. "Said she wasn't going anywhere, but wanted to give us some privacy in order to – enjoy – our evening." By the time he finished speaking, Nick's face was flaming red.

 

Sean chuckled. "Good," he said. "With any luck, she won't find out about this until later."

 

Nick gave him an amused but unconvinced look. If he'd really grimmed as hard as they were saying, he doubted Elizabeth would have missed it.

 

As though in response to his thoughts, his phone rang. Glancing at the screen, Nick lifted it to his ear with a smile.

 

"Elizabeth," he said.

 

"Nick," she replied brusquely. "Is my son all right?"

 

"He's fine," Nick assured her. Heaving a sigh, Sean took the phone from him.

 

"I'm fine, mother," he said.

 

"Hmm," she replied, thoughtfully. "Things have been dealt with?"

 

"They have."

 

"And you aren't trying to hide any injuries from me?"

 

"No."

 

"Give the phone back to Nicholas."

 

Smile tugging at his lips as he watched the exasperation crossing Sean's face, Nick accepted the phone back.

 

"Nick," Elizabeth said, "you are with my son."

 

"Yes."

 

"And you'll take care of him."

 

"Of course."

 

"He can be stubborn."

 

"I know."

 

"And don't let him fool you – he desires physical closeness just as much as, if not more so, than anyone else, so long as he trusts the person."

 

Nick swallowed, giving a nod as he realised what she was saying.

 

"Look after him," Elizabeth continued, "I'm giving you both tonight. Make sure he's really all right – and call me if he isn't."

 

"I promise," Nick agreed.

 

"Good. I'll see you in the morning."

 

"Elizabeth," Nick said, hearing her pause in hanging up the phone. "Thank you."

 

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the phone. "I haven't been able to be as present in his life as I would have liked," Elizabeth said, "but I was present as much as I could be, and I have always watched over him, even if from afar. I love my son, and have never seen him as happy as he is with you." Her voice turned hard. "So I'm trusting you with him. Take care of him."

 

"Always," Nick replied, and even as he spoke, he realised that it was true. That he wanted to always look after and protect Sean. To always be there for him.

 

*

 

Silence fell across the bullpen as soon as they stepped out of the office. Nick fought back the urge to blush, dozens of eyes fixed on the pair.

 

"Captain," someone called. "Are you all right?"

 

"Perfectly fine," Renard assured them, letting his gaze meet those of his subordinates. "The perpetrators have been apprehended and, bar a new window," - there was a scattering of chuckles at that – "it's as though it never happened."

 

There were a few nervous glances that Nick quickly realised were coming from those officers who were wesen. It seemed Sean had noticed as well, as he then turned to Nick with a sigh.

 

"Unfortunately," he said, "I have been assured by Detective Burkhardt that such an occurance requires a lot of... _reassurance_." He smiled. Nick resisted the urge to stomp on Sean's foot – he didn't actually want to give Sean any further injuries, but really, did the other man have to say it like that?

 

Refusing to meet anyone's suddenly more interested gaze, Nick gave Sean's hand, which he was holding, a tug. As far as he was concerned, the sooner they left, the better. Not only would it allow him to gain said reassurance – which was a valid concern – but it would also get him away from the knowing eyes of his colleagues.

 

"Well then," Hank called (and of course it would be Hank), "we'd best not keep you."

 

Nick dared a quick glance in Hank's direction only to see him wagging his eyebrows suggestively. Nick scowled at him.

 

He must have still been grimming somewhat, as his scowl caused an uneasy shift among the wesen present.

 

Stepping closer to Nick, until he was pressed up against his side, Sean gave Nick's hand a gentle squeeze, drawing the grimm's attention firmly back to him.

 

"Let's go home," Sean murmured as Nick glanced up, bending down to press a chaste kiss against his lips. Nick melted instantly, the wesen in the room breathing sighs of relief.

 

It was gratifying to know he had such an effect on the grimm, Sean thought, leading them from the bullpen.

 

*

 

Their drive home was made mostly in silence. Nick felt as though there were dozens of things he wanted to say, all at once, and yet none of them would come out when he opened his mouth. He felt jittery, on edge, and anxious for them to arrive.

 

A number of times, Sean had to remind Nick to watch the road (the grimm had refused to let him drive), as the younger man would continuously turn to look at him, as though trying to ensure that Sean was still fine.

 

Pulling up out the front of the house, Nick breathed a sigh of relief, before jumping out of the truck to race round and open Sean's door for him. The look Sean graced him with in response was two-parts fond and one-part 'now you're just being stupid', but Nick ignored that.

 

Slipping in next to Sean, he tugged the taller man's arm over his shoulder. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at the grimm's excessive help, and instead tightening his arm over Nick's shoulders and drawing closer to his chosen, Sean let himself be 'supported' up to the house.

 

"I really am all right, you know," he said, when Nick resumed his place as 'support' as soon as the front door was open.

 

Nick shot him a glance. There were too many emotions in that glance for Sean to recognise them all, but he thought he detected a faint trace of embarassment, some exasperated fondness, and a large dose of skepticism.

 

"Humor me," Nick replied, guiding them towards the stairs. He paused at the bottom, turning to face Sean. "Remember when you said that now I know how you feel?" he asked.

 

Slowly, Sean nodded, wondering just where Nick was going with this. "Yes," he said.

 

Nick sighed. "Well," he hesitated, fidgeting where he stood, before seemingly making up his mind as he turned to face Sean directly, staring him in the eyes. "What would you say if I said I'd like to reassure myself that you're really okay?" he asked. "The same way you did with me?"

 

Sean drew his breath in sharply, but already he was nodding, giving the grimm permission. "Of course," he said. His heart beat faster – something he thought he was surely too old and jaded for, but it happened nonetheless.

 

If Nick really wanted that physical reassurance, then perhaps Sean had been even more correct than he'd thought he had in saying that Nick now knew how he felt.

 

Was it possible that Nick was as concerned for him as he was for the grimm?

 

"Good," Nick said. Turning, he started them up the stairs. "Just so you know," he added, a hint of teasing entering his tone, "I believe I'm going to need quite a lot of reassurance."

 

That startled a laugh from Sean, who shook his head fondly, entirely willing to follow the grimm upstairs and help provide said reassurance.

 

*

 

Standing in their bedroom, Nick eyed the bed. He wanted Sean on it, stripped bare. His gaze flitted to the ensuite – but he also wanted to ease any aches or pains the prince might have.

 

Decided, Nick tugged Sean towards the bathroom.

 

Bemused, Sean followed him.

 

Entering the ensuite, Nick turned to Sean, eyes questioning. Sean nodded. He wasn't entirely sure just what the grimm had planned – but he was hardly going to say no. Anything that got him closer to his chosen was more than readily accepted.

 

Closing his eyes briefly in a sign of thanks, Nick reached out, slipping Sean's jacket from his shoulders. Carefully, Nick let the material slide down long arms, before gathering it up and putting it aside, folded neatly.

 

Stepping in, he smoothed his hands over Sean's shirt, fingers tugging at the tie. Working Sean's tie loose, Nick placed it with the jacket, before starting on his shirt buttons.

 

Standing there, letting Nick undress him, Sean had to swallow back the emotions that rose up in him. He wanted to grab Nick and drag him back into the bedroom and – but, well, he didn't want to go scaring the grimm.

 

He'd go at whatever pace the younger man set.

 

Plucking the ends of Sean's shirt from his trousers, Nick undid the last button, slipping the shirt down and off, adding it to the pile.

 

Sean was left in only an undershirt up top, while fully dressed from the waist down. Eyeing the smooth muscles the undershirt did little to hide, Nick let his hands press over the fabric. Feeling and watching for any reaction – any place where Sean may be hiding a hurt.

 

Sean drew his breath in sharply, silently watching his chosen.

 

Tugging the undershirt free of Sean's pants, Nick pushed it up, dragging it over Sean's head before placing it aside.

 

Faced with all that smooth skin, Nick unconsciously licked his lips. If only to himself, he admitted that he wanted to taste it – and not just as a way of reassuring himself.

 

Hands dropping to Sean's belt, Nick quickly undid and removed it, before dropping to his knees before the other man. Reaching out, he eased first one then the other shoe off Sean, followed by his socks.

 

Nick swallowed – he hadn't thought he'd ever have a thing for feet (he certainly hadn't in the past), but there was something about the vulnerability and trust of bare feet that had him wanting to keep Sean that way indefinitely.

 

Standing once more, he undid Sean's pants, guiding them down long legs and away, followed by Sean's underwear.

 

Once Sean was naked, Nick turned to the shower, turning it on and adjusting the temperature, before motioning for the other man to get in.

 

Sean did so – though he did grace Nick with a fond smile as he did.

 

Quickly shucking his own clothing, Nick joined Sean. Taking up a washcloth, he soaped it, before reaching out to stroke it over Sean's shoulder's and down his back. Leaning forward, Sean placed his hands against the wall, relaxing into Nick's ministrations.

 

Back finished, Nick gently turned Sean, stepping forward to run the cloth over his arms and chest. Sean sighed, frame relaxing further.

 

Nick took his time, following the line of the cloth with his eyes, watching intently for any bruising or other indication of injury. But Sean's skin was smooth and healthy.

 

Rinsing the cloth, Nick began at Sean's shoulders once more, this time using the cloth to wash away the soap. Leaning forward, he let his lips follow the path of the cloth, pressing tender kisses across Sean's wet skin. Shoulders, back, arms, chest.

 

Dipping the cloth into Sean's navel, Nick dropped to his knees, adding more soap before running it over Sean's legs.

 

Settling his hands in Nick's hair, Sean smiled down at the grimm, lifting one foot to allow Nick to wash it.

 

Once he had washed, rinsed and kissed every inch of Sean – including his hair, Nick stepped back, giving himself a quick wash before turning off the shower.

 

Slipping out, Nick grabbed a towel, giving himself a perfunctory wipe down and then knotting it around his waist. Grabbing another towel, he nodded for Sean to step out.

 

Wrapping the towel around Sean, Nick proceeded to dry him, with just as much care and attention as he had spent washing him. His motions more caresses than anything else, Nick pressed the towel against Sean's shoulders, following it's path as he traced newly dry skin with lips and tongue.

 

Feeling boneless under all the attention, Sean simply stood there, letting Nick do whatever he wanted. Whatever he needed.

 

The grimm paused over Sean's heart, placing numerous kisses there one on top of the other. Sean's bruised knuckles – the only injury on him – were also given extra attention.

 

Once Sean was dry, Nick gently led him to the bed, pressing Sean down before climbing in after him, shucking his towel in the process. Skin pressed against skin, listening to and feeling the beat of Sean's heart, the rise and fall of his chest, Nick felt himself fully relax.

 

"You're okay," he murmured, fingers idly tracing patterns against Sean's chest.

 

"I'm okay," Sean agreed. He tilted his head so that his chin was just brushing Nick's hair, where Nick rested against his chest.

 

Outside, afternoon sunlight splashed across the world, cars rumbled in the distance, life moved on.

 

But in that moment, twined together in the bed, none of that mattered. Sean was fine. He was alive and he was fine and they were together.

 

Breaths syncing, Nick and Sean lay there, content to simply bask in the warmth and company of the other, and the knowledge that they were both fine.

 

*

 

Nick stirred when the creeping shadows were touching the opposite wall and the sky outside was washed in orange and gold. He hadn't slept, not exactly, but he'd been so relaxed he felt completely refreshed, if somewhat reluctant to leave the bed and the comfort of lying with Sean.

 

He didn't want it to end. Ever.

 

Which was sort of a problem considering this whole relationship thing was meant to be fake. A ploy to put off Sean's royal family. A way to show a united front to the wesen community.

 

Sean had not mentioned anything about ending it – nor was Nick entirely sure that he would. Much as Sean acted as though he'd expected the reactions they'd gotten, Nick knew that some of those reactions were beyond even what the other man had hoped for. Such as the petition to the Council.

 

With reactions like that, was it even possible for them to end the 'fake' relationship without causing some kind of catastrophe?

 

But, well, Nick wanted it – he wanted it to last, and he wanted it to be real. Not something they simply kept up because it was easier or better.

 

Was it possible that Sean could want it too? Nick tightened his grip on Sean. In response, the other man rolled towards him with a mumble, making Nick smile.

 

_"I have never seen my son happier than he is with said grimm."_ Elizabeth had told Alexander. She'd told Nick that his and Sean's relationship was the first one she'd seen her son in where he'd been truly happy.

 

Surely Elizabeth would know whether her son was really happy or faking, wouldn't she?

 

But how could Nick be certain?

 

Biting his lip, Nick trailed his fingers along Sean's hairline. He couldn't, not entirely, not unless he spoke to Sean. His heartbeat sped up and his throat tightened. It was both an exhilarating and terrifying prospect. But if he wanted this relationship to last, he was going to have to do something about it. He was going to have to talk to Sean.

 

*

 

"You're thinking too much," Sean mumbled, voice muffled against Nick's hair as he pressed closer to the grimm. He felt utterly relaxed in a way that he hadn't since... well, he wasn't entirely sure he could ever remember feeling quite so relaxed before.

 

"Sorry," Nick replied, and he could feel the grimm's smile against his collar bone.

 

"No you're not," Sean replied, tugging Nick closer (which wasn't entirely possible considering how close they already were, but he made the attempt anyway).

 

Nick laughed. "Come on," he said. "It's getting dark. We should do something about dinner."

 

As though in response, Sean's stomache made an embarassing rumbling sound. Opening his eyes, he fixed Nick with a stern gaze. "Not. A. Word." He said.

 

Pushing himself upright, Nick let the covers pool around his waist as he watched Sean stretch before also sitting up. It was reassuring to see so much smooth skin, without injury.

 

"We'd better get you some dinner," he teased with a grin.

 

"Nick!" Sean warned, swiping out at the younger man even as Nick stumbled, laughing, out of the bed and out of Sean's reach.

 

He grabbed up Sean's sleep pants (neatly folded by Sean that morning – none the worse for wear despite their trip up a tree), before disappearing into the bathroom. Returning, Nick had Sean's pants tightened around his waist (and pooling over his feet) and Sean's shirt from earlier draped over him, a few buttons done up to hold it closed.

 

Swallowing back a growl at the sight, Sean pushed himself from the bed. "And just what am _I_ going to wear?" he asked.

 

The look Nick gave him in response was an extremely blatant once over (which made Sean subtly flex his muscles as he did so). "I don't mind if you stay like that," Nick replied.

 

Admittedly, Sean was tempted. To test the boundaries, take the grimm at his word, and see how Nick would react. How far he could go. But the setting sun also brought an evening chill with it that made wandering around the house naked less appealing than it could have been.

 

The exaggerated pout that Nick gave him when he fished out a pair of trackpants, however, almost made up for the fact that the grimm was no longer ogling all his... assets.

 

Swiping up one of Nick's t-shirts, Sean pulled it on, letting the smaller size cling sharply to him. Nick licked his lips.

 

*

 

They wandered down to the kitchen, where Nick laughed to see a jar of cream on the bench, note propped against it.

 

_Didn't want to disturb you._ It read in Monroe's hand.

 

Shaking his head, Nick held the note out to Sean, before grabbing the jar and pulling off the lid to give it a sniff. Wrinkling his nose, he placed the jar aside.

 

"I'll be fine," Sean said, putting the note down. He gave his bruised knuckles a flex. "Right now, it's my stomache, not my hand, that needs seeing to."

 

Rolling his eyes fondly at him, Nick motioned around the kitchen. "Then, by all means," he said.

 

*

 

Sean rummaged in the cupboards for some ingedients, before setting Nick to work cutting and mixing. They moved seamlessly around each other, as though it had been much longer than a week.

 

Nick couldn't help but think that they simply fit together. Reaching past Sean for some spices, he let his hip brush Sean's, leaning on the other man for balance as Sean automatically shifted to provide said balance.

 

Before long, dinner was ready. Nick lit candles, Sean grabbed the wine, and they sat across from each other, talking and laughing and smiling and staring into each other's eyes.

 

It was as he was waving the last piece of dessert at Sean teasingly, the small bite situated on his fork, that Nick realised.

 

Even if it was pretend – they were doing everything that a real couple did.

 

Taking Nick's distraction as the opportunity it was, Sean leant forward, mouth closing over Nick's fork as he sucked the lemon meringue pie from it.

 

"Hey!" Nick exclaimed with a laugh.

 

Sean smiled back at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge as he leant towards Nick.

 

Eyes sparking in reponse to the challenge, Nick met him, leaning across the table until his lips pressed against Sean's, tongue darting out to lick into Sean's mouth, capturing some of the dessert for himself.

 

They kissed long after the pie had dissolved, tongues stroking against each other, lips moving, until finally they had to sit back down – kissing across the table not being quite comfortable enough for them to continue indefinitely.

 

"What?" Sean asked. There was something in Nick's eyes, a kind of awe and wonder as he stared at Sean.

 

Nick shook his head. "Just," he said, then he laughed. "I know it's supposed to be fake, but, well, we've kind of been dating for the last week."

 

Sean blinked, feeling anxiety wash over him as he wondered just where the grimm was going with this. Was Nick regretting agreeing to Sean's request? Did he want them to stop pretending? Sean wasn't sure that he could stop, that he could go back.

 

"We've gone out to dinner," Nick continued, "we share a bed, we make decisions together, we've told all our friends," he gave their outfits a pointed look, "we wear each other's clothes, we've basically become an 'us'," he shrugged, "and I love it."

 

Sean's breath caught in his throat. What? Already?

 

"I love it," Nick repeated. "I love coming home to you, and going to bed with you, waking up with you." He chuckled. "I could do with a bit less of some of your family, but I figure there's always at least someone in each family, right? And I wouldn't trade what we have for anything."

 

He paused.

 

"And I know, maybe this is crazy, or insane, or..." swallowing, Nick met Sean's eyes dead on. "Will you marry me?" he asked.

 

*

 

For a moment, Sean felt as though he couldn't breath, couldn't move, couldn't speak. Then it all came flooding back.

 

"What?" he asked.

 

Chuckling nervously, stomache twisted up in knots and a persistent worry that he was ruining everything screaming in the recesses of his mind, Nick ran his hand over the back of his head. "I was talking to Hank earlier," he said, determined to get it out. To at least try. He had to know. "About how we've been invited to the Ball of Treatise, and that basically means everyone expects us to announce our wesen-engagement at it." He swallowed. "And I said that I didn't want that." Sean frowned. "That I don't want to wesen-marry you, just because it's expected," Nick continued quickly. "And Hank suggested we elope, you know, beforehand. So that it's not because of the Ball or your family or anyone else. It's just because of us.

 

"And, so, I'm asking you if you'll marry me, bond with me, whatever – because you want to, not for any other reason." He held his breath.

 

"Are you sure?" Sean asked. He wanted to believe him, to say yes, to reach out and haul the grimm back into a kiss – but he had to be certain.

 

Nick grinned wryly at him, "I already said 'yes', didn't I?" he said, "when you asked. I'll always say yes. Now, I'm asking. Will you?"

 

The smile that spread across Sean's face was one that Nick had never seen before. The corners of his eyes crinkled up, and Nick wanted to keep that smile on his face forever.

 

"Yes," Sean breathed.

 

Letting out a breath of laughter, Nick nodded. "Yes?" he asked.

 

"Yes," Sean agreed.

 

"We're getting married." Leaning back in his chair, Nick felt his grin threatening to split his face in two.

 

"Well," Sean replied. "As you said, we have basically been dating for a week." There was something in his eyes, in the lilt to his voice, that had Nick narrowing his gaze in response.

 

"Hang on," he said, "did you -"

 

But Sean cut him off with a kiss. Tugging Nick across the table, before standing and dragging them both away from it. They stumbled over each other, legs twisting together. One of the glasses was knocked over, spilling wine across the tablecloth to drip onto the floor – but they ignored it.

 

Hands on Nick's shoulders, Sean walked him backwards until they reached the couch, tumbling Nick down onto it as he followed him down. Settling in between the grimm's legs, lips refusing to leave Nick's, Sean couldn't help but smile into their kiss.

 

"You," he muttered, "have been driving me mad all week." He let his lips finally drift away from Nick's, only to trail them along his jaw and then down his neck.

 

Groaning as he tilted his head back, Nick let out a gasp when Sean bit down. "You haven't exactly been making things easy for me, either," he pointed out.

 

One of Sean's hands was in Nick's hair, the other found his waist, stroking under Sean's shirt to find Nick's skin.

 

Fisting his hands in the tight fabric of his shirt on Sean, Nick pressed up towards him. Sean's lips moved to Nick's collarbone, and Nick moaned, lifting his leg to wrap it around Sean.

 

Unbalanced, they tumbled to the floor with a _thump_.

 

Laughing, head thrown back, Nick glanced over at Sean, their tumble to the floor having mostly broken them apart.

 

"Ouch," he muttered, already reaching for Sean once more.

 

"You know," Sean murmured between kisses as they slowly drew back together, "there is a perfectly good bed upstairs."

 

"Mmm," Nick agreed. "But that's upstairs, and you're here."

 

"True," Sean admitted. "As are you."

 

They kissed for a few more minutes, rolling over as they tried to get closer to each other, bumping into the coffee table.

 

Laughing, Nick pulled his head back from Sean's, hand automatically going down to rub against his shin. "You might have been right about that bed," he said, reaching back for Sean.

 

"Hmmm," Sean agreed, fingers deftly undoing the few buttons on Nick's shirt, eyes hungrily taking in the grimm's chest. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss above Nick's heart.

 

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Nick considered Sean for a moment. Sean raised an eyebrow in query. Nick grinned.

 

Leaning down, he placed his lips next to Sean's ear.

 

"Catch me?" he breathed.

 

Immediately flinging himself upright, Nick twisted out of the shirt Sean was still holding, before tearing for the stairs.

 

Dropping the shirt, Sean raced after him, catching up to the grimm on the corner landing. Arm wrapping firmly around Nick's waist, Sean pulled him to a halt, spinning him around to press him up against the wall and force his mouth open in a kiss.

 

Groaning into the kiss, Nick let his fingers drift down to trace the strip of skin between the t-shirt Sean was wearing, and his pants. Sliding his hands up, Nick tangled his fingers in the bottom of the t-shirt, dragging it up with them until Sean had to break their kiss and step back so that Nick could tug it over his head and drop it to the floor behind them.

 

"That's better," Nick said, leaning in to press kisses against Sean's chest, turning them around so that he could press Sean up against the wall.

 

Seeing Sean's head tilt back, throat working as he relaxed into Nick's kisses, Nick grinned. Spinning away, he darted up the stairs, laughter bubbling behind him as he ran.

 

With a growl, Sean sprang after him, long legs working to draw him closer to the grimm.

 

He caught up with Nick in the bedroom doorway, slamming them into the doorjam as he hauled Nick back into a kiss.

 

Laughing, breathless, Nick pressed back against Sean's kisses with his own, beginning to step backwards towards the bed.

 

Biting down on Sean's lower lip, Nick felt the backs of his knees hit the bed. Eyes sparking in mischief, he let himself fall backwards, dragging Sean down on top of him.

 

Landing on top of Nick, Sean rolled them, moving them futher up the bed at the same time. Getting his hands under himself, Nick scrabbled backwards in an attempt to help and reach the pillows, Sean crawling after him.

 

Breathing heavily, Sean leant towards Nick once more. He wanted to kiss the grimm and keep on kissing him. Then he felt his face ripple.

 

Gasping, Sean drew backwards, trying to force the woge back. Frowning, Nick pushed himself up onto his elbows.

 

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice full of concern.

 

Sean shook his head, tightening his jaw against the change. But Nick must have noticed something as the next thing he knew, the grimm had placed his hand against Sean's cheek – right where it rippled away when he woged.

 

"Hey," Nick said. "It's okay. You don't have to hide yourself from me."

 

Sean let out a mirthless laugh. "You say that now," he said.

 

"I have seen your woge before, you know," Nick replied.

 

Breathing deep, Sean shook his head. "Seeing it is one thing," he said, "you don't want it in bed."

 

"And what, I can't decide that for myself?" Nick demanded. He scowled up at Sean, tugging the older man's face around until Sean was forced to meet his eyes.

 

Sean chuckled drily. "If I can hardly stand to look at it myself, how can I expect anyone else to?" he demanded.

 

"Because it's part of you." Nick's hand moved to trace over his eyebrow, down his cheek. "And I love you. All of you. Trust me?"

 

Staring back at him, Sean hesitated, but Nick didn't look away. Didn't blink. Didn't let any hint of hesitation or unease into his gaze.

 

So Sean let go, letting the woge ripple over his face, skin pulling and tearing in places. Nick simply continued to stare up at him with a gentle smile, hand never leaving his face.

 

"Now," Nick said, "weren't you going to kiss me?"

 

Leaning forward, Sean simply leant his forhead against Nick's, too overcome to do anything else. "Thank you," he whispered.

 

"Always," Nick replied, wrapping his arms tight around Sean.

 

*

 

They lay like that for some time, before Sean slowly drew back, still woged, to stare down at Nick once more. Nick smiled back at him.

 

Letting his woge fade, Sean pressed his forehead back to Nick's.

 

"You know," Nick murmured, "I've been thinking."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Mmm." There was a pause. "Was this your plan?"

 

"Plan?" Sean drew back to look at Nick.

 

"From the beginning," Nick explained. He gave a shrug, grinning up at Sean. "You always have more than one reason for doing things, so... I know one reason was to help us deal with your family, but I can't help but wonder – was this the other reason?"

 

Sean was silent for a long moment, before he sighed. "I chose you," he said.

 

Nick felt a tingle run over him at the words, as he realised what Sean wasn't saying – that yes, Sean had asked Nick to fake-date him in order to convince Nick that they should really date, and yes, Sean had chosen Nick.

 

Nick was Sean's chosen, just as Sean was his – and that had never been fake.

 

Smiling into Sean's neck, Nick rolled them over, lips beginning to make their way up to Sean's once more. After all, they weren't pretending any longer, so he saw no reason to hold back.

 

Judging by the way Sean responded to him – neither did he.

 

 

*

 

END

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, before anyone threatens me for ending it there - YES, there IS a sequel planned! Among other things, the plans include having it focus on the Ball of Treatise (and just general Nick and Sean are no longer pretending - were they ever? - and know that, and so are even more fluffy with each other and everyone else is long-suffering), and possibly Nick's mom. 
> 
> So this, the fact that I realised this chapter would be the end of this fic, is the other reason it took me so long to get it out. It was this strange paradox of wanting to finish it and having it all planned, and just really wanting to get to those final scenes, and yet shying away from the idea of actually finishing the thing.
> 
> So - Grimm Fandom (Renhardt fandom), be proud. This is my first, finished, multi-chapter fic. *big grin* And it breaks the 100K word limit *even bigger grin*
> 
> BUT - as stated above, this is NOT the END (not really). 
> 
> You may have noticed that I've finally started a 'Pretend a Little' series in order to group all my 'Pretend a Little' works. There are a couple of reasons for this:  
> 1) so that you can easily find the sequel once I start posting it  
> 2) so that I could easily link the 'explicit spin-offs' to this fic  
> 3) (which I know some of you are hoping for) so that I can post an Explicit ending scene that continues where the above chapter faded out to black - and make it easy to find  
> 4) because I'm still so in love with this little universe that I'm considering creating a 'slice of life' fic, where I can just write fluffy, sappy chapters that don't have to follow any actual plot but let Sean and Nick be totally fluffy and sappy with each other  
> and  
> 5) I've just recently started doing some artwork again (something I haven't done in a while). So, naturally, this has included some Sean/Nick art - which is also loosely based on 'Pretend a Little', and so I wanted to link to that as well
> 
> Finally, a MASSIVE, MASSIVE THANK YOU! To everyone who has read this, left kudos, comments, sent me messages or encouragement, stopped by tumblr to prod me, etc.  
> I don't think I would have ever finished this thing without you all. While I write for myself - I post for others. So all your encouragement has kept me posting this until the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. That was just day one. And the longest chapter I have ever written. Each chapter should be another day - the number of which is not yet set and keeps increasing because the muse if just having far too much fun with these guys right now.
> 
> (also, if anyone wants to, you can find me on tumblr as tolieawake. Sometimes I post things I'm working on there)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Pretend a Little - explicit 'spin-offs'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6110851) by [tolieawake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolieawake/pseuds/tolieawake)




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